The Blade and the Bow
by ice princess deluxe
Summary: "I love not the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness.  I love only that which they defend." - J.R.R. Tolkien.  A collection of short stories featuring Sebastian and Elsa Hawke.
1. No Man is an Island

Title: No Man is an Island  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Sebastian/Elsa  
>Summary: Even the strongest of people need someone to lean on at times.<br>Note: While I thought Aveline showing up after the events of All that Remains firmly cemented her spot as Elsa's best friend, especially when you add on the Captain's Condolences quest, I was still upset that Sebastian didn't show up to at least offer a friendly "I'm sorry" sort of scene. So, here's my take.  
><strong>Series note:<strong> I decided to take down a couple of the original posts I made for this pairing and lump them all here, mostly because I wanted to have one place for all my Sebastian/Elsa stories since these two have decided to take over my brain. I never meant for all these one-shots to be stitched together to form one single story, but they did start to build on one another and form a timeline. When I post a new addition here, if something goes out of order, I'll be sure to note where it might go.

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><p>It was dark by the time that Elsa made her way into the Chantry. She had planned it that way – going after the evening service guaranteed that she would miss the majority of the crowd and not have to deal with empty condolences from her neighbors. There had been plenty of those already. Bodhan was Maker-sent; he tactfully fielded all attempts at social calls, telling Elsa's would-be visitors that she had taken to her bed.<p>

The truth was that after Leandra's ashes had been scattered, Elsa had spent the day sitting on the floor of her mother's room, staring blankly at the wall and feeling as if someone had ripped her heart out of her chest. When they had left Ferelden, Elsa's mother had grabbed some of her husband's belongings she hadn't been willing to part with. Elsa had taken them out, wrapping herself in one of her father's favorite robes that even underneath the cedar scent from the planks Leandra had tucked into the pockets to discourage moths, still somehow smelled like him. Elsa wondered how her father would have dealt with this, had he been there. She wondered what he would have said to her, if he might have looked at her with the same anger and self-loathing that she felt for herself. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but like with Carver and Bethany, she couldn't bring herself to cry.

She slowly climbed the stairs to the top pews, the scent of incense wafting through the air. Sebastian's clothes always carried a trace of it wherever he went, probably from spending the majority of his time in the Chantry. She'd come to associate the spicy, slightly piney scent with him and it never failed to calm her frazzled nerves. Going over to the memorial wall, she was surprised to see a candle already lit for her mother, her name neatly scratched in the wax base. Touched, she put a hand to her throat, thinking that Sebastian would have been the most likely person to do this for her. Opening the pouch at her hip, Elsa took out a handful of gold coins and placed them into the offering box with a muted clink. Using one of the tapers provided by the Sisters, she touched it to Leandra's flame and lit three other candles nearby.

"I don't really know how this works," she murmured to no one in particular. The last time she had been in a Chantry to actually pray had been in Ostagar, and even then it hadn't been a proper chapel, just a wooden scaffolding for one of the Mothers present to stand on while she gave her sermon. Carver had been off with the rest of their company in the makeshift barracks, but she had knelt there, praying with all her might that her little brother would make it through the upcoming battle unscathed. She hadn't had a proper prayer in mind then, just a desperate plea of _please, protect Carver and let him live past this night _she had repeated over and over.

In a way, her prayers had been answered; she and Carver made it out of the doomed fight without so much as a scratch between them. It was only when they were trying to flee their home with their mother and sister that Carver had been killed by the ogre.

Bowing her head, she tried to think of any prayers for her mother's departed soul, but came up empty. Her family hadn't been the most devout group of people by any means, but she could remember visiting Lothering's Chantry with her mother when she had been a girl. Later on, Carver joined them, but Bethany and her father had never come along. It had been too risky to have two apostates in the same building as so many templars and eventually the three of them went less and less until they stopped going altogether.

"Hawke?" Elsa's head snapped up and she looked to her right. Sebastian stood there a few feet away, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Another wave of guilt washed over her. If she hadn't been so busy pining over the one unattainable man in Kirkwall, would her mother still be alive?

"I needed to get out," she stammered. It wasn't exactly what she had planned on telling him, but it seemed that once she opened her mouth, she couldn't stop the flow of words. "It was too claustrophobic at home and…" she bit at her lip. Even though she had gotten rid of the vase of lilies, the sickly sweet smell lingered in the front entranceway like an unwanted specter, making Elsa's throat close up. Orana had been so upset that she had taken a bucket and scrub brush out of the supply closet, but even after the hall gleamed and smelled like fresh soap, the stench was still stuck in Elsa's nose, prompting her evening escape. "Mother loved visiting the Chantry."

"I remember she would often come for the sunrise services," Sebastian tentatively said, standing closer to her. "She had a lovely singing voice."

"She did," Elsa agreed, her voice hushed in the quiet of the Chantry. She let Sebastian lead her towards one of the back pews. "Father loved to hear her sing. When he died…" It had been horrible when her father had passed on. He was someone she and her siblings had seen as being so strong and invincible, for him to succumb to an illness when he had healed all their scraped knees and bruises over the years with a simple touch of his hand had been a shock. "Mother tried to cry only when she thought the twins and I were asleep, but we could still hear. Bethany took it hard; mostly because Father had been spending more time with training her on how control her magic. Carver tried to be strong for Mother and his sister, but he was just a boy who had lost his father."

"How old were you?"

"Twenty."

"You were just a girl." He could easily picture her; younger and stoically putting up a strong front while things crumbled around her.

She shook her head. "Mother tried her best, but there were days where she wasn't able to force herself out of bed, let alone function normally, that first year. Someone had to take up the family duties and as the eldest; it was only fair that I do it. Our neighbors kept on telling me how brave I was to make sure that our family kept going." Elsa looked down at her hands. "In reality, I missed Father just as much as everyone else. But the twins were only fifteen; they deserved to have someone around that reminded them of what normal in our house used to be like. If I did cry, I made sure to do it far away from home." She had spent a lot of time by the river, going off by herself on the pretext of doing laundry and staying away long after the few clothes she had taken with her were dry to be sure that her eyes wouldn't be red when she went back home.

"Then Carver grew up and decided to join the army. Mother was so afraid of losing him that I joined just so I could keep an eye on him for her. Looking back, that probably made him resent me even more than he already did. I never meant for him to feel as if he were living in my shadow, but by the time that I finally found out how he felt and could confront him about it, it was too late." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "Even now, I can still hear the way that his body sounded when it hit the ground and how Mother had screamed out for him. I spent the two weeks we were at sea thinking about how I could have saved him. If I had been faster, if I had pushed him aside, if I had done _anything_ differently, he could still be alive. Bethany buried herself in work to cover her grief, but she once told me that it felt as if someone had cut off a part of her that had always been there. This time, Mother didn't bother to hide her tears from the two of us. In a way, I think that she blamed us for Carver's death just as much as we blamed ourselves." By that time, Elsa had slipped into the role as the head of the household and she hadn't had much time to mourn her brother, not when there was work that needed to be done in order to keep her family in Kirkwall and put food on the table. Later, she had run from the guilt by throwing herself into earning as much as possible in order to fund Varric's expedition, hoping that with enough money and a higher standing in society they would be untouchable, that she could protect Bethany from the templars where she had failed to protect Carver from the darkspawn.

"When I first met you, I had no idea what was going on," Sebastian said, sitting closer to her. Elsa looked as if she were boring a hole in the back of the next pew, her jaw clenched and shoulders tense. He remembered the first time he had talked to her, how she had reminded him of an avenging spirit, proud and fierce yet with an undertone of compassion when she told him that she hoped the deaths of the assassins that had murdered his family gave him some measure of peace.

"No one really did. We were new refugees; any sort of weakness we might have shown had the threat of being exploited. I refused to have my brother's memory used against me like that." She looked at him. "We had to leave his body where it fell; Aveline's husband Wesley said a few words over him, but that was all Carver got."

"You were running from the Blight. Necessity dictated that you leave his earthly body behind, but be assured that he is walking alongside the Maker now."

"Do you really believe that?" she asked. "I don't mean to be blasphemous, but has anyone actually died and then been brought back, confirming that they walked with the Maker?"

"Well, no, but I have faith that it is our fate once we leave this world. I don't need anyone to verify what I believe in order to believe it."

Her shoulders slumped. "I envy you, Sebastian. You have this unshakable faith in everything that you do; I wish that I could be like you sometimes, but it seems like for every step I take forward that I'm shoved two steps back." They might have received riches beyond their imaginings, but it had cost Elsa her sister. Like Carver, necessity had forced her to leave Bethany in the deep roads, but at least she, Varric and Fenris had built a cairn over her body with rocks and rubble they had chipped off the walls so that it would remain undisturbed. "If Mother had taken Carver's death poorly, it was nothing compared to how she reacted when I returned without Bethany. She had begged me to persuade my sister to stay behind, but I had assured her that everything would be fine, that we'd both be back before she knew it." Elsa knew that her parents had tried hard not to play favorites with their three children, but while Bethany had spent more time with their father to nurture her magical talents, she had been Leandra's little girl through and through, just like Elsa had been their father's back before the twins had been born. Even after, when affections were constantly juggled around between the three of them, Malcolm had made time for his eldest, cuddling together during bedtimes while spinning stories about the far-away places he had traveled or instructing her on how to properly handle daggers in the afternoons.

"I only met with your sister a handful of times, but the two of you seemed close."

The briefest of smiles flitted over her face. "We were. You tend to form a solid bond with someone when you have a little brother who used to love nailing braids to the bedposts and sneaking frogs into the house. In some ways, I think Bethany and I were closer than she and Carver." She closed her eyes, imagining for a moment that she could hear her sister's outraged shrieks at finding a toad in her sheets. Bethany would never fail to run to their mother and bury her face in her skirts and even though their father was supposed to be scolding Carver for his pranks, Elsa could clearly remember the amused tone he had often used.

"My brothers and I would often roughhouse around our home," Sebastian said. "There wasn't a day that went by that one or all of us weren't sporting bruises somewhere on our bodies. There might have been a set hierarchy between the three of us, but even with the age differences, we were as close as any brothers could be."

"It never stops hurting, does it?" she asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

He shook his head. "No, it doesn't. People say that it gets easier to bear, but that's a lie as well. There are some days where you can almost forget about your loss, but there are others where it feels as fresh and as sharp as it did the day you first heard about their deaths. No one can tell you when to stop mourning or how you're allowed to mourn." Sebastian had been worried about her- while she had a gentle disposition, Elsa hit him as the type of person who kept her troubles to herself, bottling everything up until her feelings had nowhere else to go. He wondered just how long it was going to take before she boiled over.

"Gamlen said it was my fault that Mother died," she whispered, her breath hitching. "He was right; I was more concerned with earning money than protecting my mother, as if a big house and status would somehow make up for the loss of two children. If I hadn't been so wrapped up in my own affairs, I would have noticed that something was wrong. If only I had been faster, if I had only seen the clues. If…"

He reached out and held onto her hands. "Don't blame yourself for this. There was nothing that you could have done to stop that madman from doing what he did to your mother or to any of those other poor women. Your uncle needed to place blame on someone in order to make sense out of what happened; he spoke out of grief, don't take it to heart." He let go of her hand and impulsively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You've said that you've had to be the one that others held onto in times like this."

She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "It's all I know how to do."

Without thinking, he tightened his arm around her. "Then let go; let me be your rock, if only for a little while." It seemed as if that was all he had to say – Elsa felt her lips tremble and her vision blurred in front of her. The choked sob that came out had her pressing her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the rest, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. She turned her head against Sebastian's shoulder and shook against him, accepting the comfort he freely offered, dimly aware that he was slowly rocking them back and forth, his hand smoothing over her hair while the other ran over her back in comforting circles. She didn't know how long they sat there like that, but she felt like a limp wash rag once her tears subsided.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, uncurling her fingers from the front of his tunic and stiffly moving away from him. "I got your shirt all wet."

He shrugged. "It will dry," he said, reaching out and wiping away the tears that clung to her chin with his thumb. Elsa was not a pretty crier; her face was blotched red and her eyes were swollen, but he guessed that she had needed to let things go for quite some time. "You helped me once before, it is only right that I help you in your time of need."

She wiped at her face with the heels of her hands. "So we're to keep score then?" The sarcastic tone was just a way for her to hide her true feelings and he knew it.

"No. Just know that you're never alone. You have friends who care about you, Hawke." He reached for her hand again. "Any time you need us, we will be there for you. All you have to do is ask."

She looked up at him and for the first time since coming back from the foundry, Elsa felt as if a weight had lifted off her chest. "Thank you," she said, leaning against him and giving him a heartfelt hug. "For Mother's candle. For everything."

He rested his cheek against her hair. "You're quite welcome." Sebastian grudgingly sat back and put her at arms' length. It wasn't right for a brother of the faith to feel the beginnings of something that went further than affectionate friendship with Elsa; one, it wouldn't be fair to her to lead her on when nothing could come of it and two, she was in a vulnerable state. To toy with her emotions, even unintentionally, would be inexcusable. He gave her what would hopefully be translated into a _just friends_ smile. "That's what friends are for."


	2. The Lunch Date

Title: The Lunch Date  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Hawke/Sebastian  
>Summary: Hawke has the day off and is armed with a picnic basket. Sebastian didn't know what hit him.<p>

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><p>When the lay sister had directed Hawke to Lowtown, she hadn't expected to find Sebastian in plain shirtsleeves on his hands and knees with children climbing over him. Times like these, Elsa was glad that she had the ability to sneak up on people – it gave her an opportunity to stand back and watch with amusement as Sebastian roared and held his hands out like claws, making the kids shriek in mock terror. One little girl launched herself at him and began to tickle his sides. The others got the hint and soon the usually reserved archer was sent to the ground.<p>

"I am slain! I yield!" he shouted dramatically, laughing heartily in a way that made Elsa's heart flip dangerously in her chest. She knew that it was foolish of her to fall for the one man out of her - well, actually _anyone's_ - reach, but she couldn't help being drawn to his kind nature.

The fact that he was absolutely gorgeous and had a voice that made her knees melt was a bonus. Pushing off the wall, she made her way to him.

"I knew I should have come here sooner," she said with a smile. "Now whatever shall I do without my favorite companion?" She held out her hand and couldn't help the blush that she could feel spread over her cheeks when he took it, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as he let her help him to his feet.

"What can I say? I'm easily defeated by a pretty face." The lopsided grin and way that he looked at her made Elsa's pulse pound in her ears. Then he looked away and put his free hand on the shoulder of the little girl who had led the tickle-fight. "Isn't that right, Sophie?"

Sophie beamed up at him, completely enchanted. "Uh huh! Messere Sebastian declared me the prettiest girl for the day!"

Elsa's smile widened. "Well, he certainly has good judgment. Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your admirer for a little while?"

"Just for a little bit. He promised to read us all a story later!"

"You have quite the demanding crowd," Elsa teased as they walked away.

"They are a handful at times," he agreed. "Yet it makes it worthwhile to be able to get them to finally act as children. They normally have very little to smile about."

Elsa had recognized several of the children from the time she had lived in Lowtown. Life was hard for everyone, especially for children forced to grow up faster than they should. "You look different without your armor," she blurted.

He shrugged. "Well, one can't serve soup or crawl about with heavy mail on. Speaking of, what brings you here today? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Actually, I was hoping that I could help you out today." For the first time in weeks, there wasn't anything going on. Elsa had found herself sitting at home with nothing to do and had an urge to visit Sebastian. Upon arriving at the Chantry, one of the sisters had mentioned that he was out at the soup kitchen the Chantry had established and instead of walking back home, she found that she wanted to spend the day with him.

She might not be able to hold his heart in the same way that he had hers, but if friendship was all that could ever be between them, she would gladly take it.

"Oh?"

Without thinking, she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "Does it surprise you so much that I want to help out? I can ladle soup with the best of them; I wasn't always born a noble, you know." She winked up at him to let him know she wasn't offended. "My offer does come with one condition though."

"And what would that be?" Sebastian laid his right hand over hers; pretending for one moment that they weren't an up-and-coming noblewoman and a Chantry brother, but a young couple out for an afternoon stroll. _Why couldn't I have met you before,_ he wondered, looking down at her. _Because I didn't deserve her then,_ he answered. Recently, he was finding it harder and harder to remain platonic friends with Elsa. She made it far too easy to momentarily forget his place with her graciousness and inherent sweet nature as well as the way she had of smiling at him that made him feel as if he were the only man in Kirkwall to receive such a boon.

She was completely guileless and seemingly unaware of her own beauty, which only added to her charm.

"Sister Margaret told me that you were down here late into the evening yesterday and you were back before dawn today."

"Sister Margaret acts like a mother hen at times." He said it fondly, but he still felt a minor annoyance that she would worry Elsa enough that she felt the need to help. "She tends to cluck over the littlest thing."

"When was the last time you ate?" He must have taken too long to answer, because she sighed and leaned against his arm. "Honestly, Sebastian. Between you and Anders, I don't know who to worry about more sometimes."

"You needn't fash yourself over me. I'm fine, Hawke, really." Wanting to change the topic, he went back to something she said. "Now, what's this condition of yours?"

"I'm yours for the rest of the day if you give me an hour of your time. Have lunch with me, Sebastian."

His mind froze at _I'm yours_, but he cleared his throat. "Well, we're close to the Hanged Man. Whatever they're cooking smells…"

"Better than it tastes, trust me. Varric happened to find out what today's mystery meat was. You don't want to know. No, I had something else in mind." She slipped her hand out from his arm and reached for his hand instead, her fingers lacing with his as she tugged him towards Hightown. "I have some things I need to donate to the Chantry at home; we can pick up something from the kitchen and have lunch in the garden."

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><p>"Why do I get the distinct impression that you had this planned all along?" Sebastian teased, hefting the wicker basket he found on the kitchen table. It was surprisingly heavy for something that only carried enough lunch for two people.<p>

"Because I _did_ plan it beforehand," she replied, an impish glint in her eyes as she opened the back kitchen door, a thick blanket slung over one arm. "It's too pretty of a day to eat indoors; let's enjoy some sunshine while it lasts."

And that was how Sebastian found himself in the Hawke estate's private gardens, sitting underneath a tree with a hearty sandwich in his hand and a pretty girl at his side. Elsa was filling him in on the events of her trip to the Wounded Coast to scout out any new elfroot patches and he couldn't help but notice the way that she cautiously omitted certain things, like any injuries she might have sustained in his absence. She dug into the basket and came back with a metal cylinder. Unscrewing the cap, she poured a healthy measure of some yellowish liquid and offered it to him.

"Ah, that's tart," he said, making a face.

Elsa laughed at his expression. "There was a fresh shipment of lemons from Antiva in the market this morning." She took the cup from him and took a sip. "I guess I should have added more sugar to this batch."

"You made it? Did you make all of this?"

She arched an eyebrow. "It doesn't take a culinary genius to cobble together a few sandwiches or squeeze fresh lemonade, Sebastian. Besides, I enjoy cooking for others." Now that she was the only Hawke living in the estate, she had taken to running the kitchens. Back in Lothering, one of the older women who had lived next door had taken Elsa under her wing, teaching her the ins and outs of the art of cooking. It was a blessing for the family; even after so many years, Leandra had still kept with the tried and true basics. It wasn't long before Elsa took over their kitchen, much to the delight of everyone.

"You're miles away," Sebastian said softly, dusting bread crumbs off the front of his shirt.

"Sorry," she said, blinking away tears that had suddenly sprung up from nowhere. "I was just thinking about how my father used to love packing up a lunch like this and spending the day by the river. The twins and I would often cut across Old Man Barlin's fields while Mother and Father took the longer path. By the time that they made it to us, Carver would have already had his shoes off and his pants rolled up past his knees as he looked for frogs. Bethany always plucked flowers and begged me to make wreaths for our hair so we could pretend to be princesses, even when I thought I had grown too old for make-believe."

"You miss them, don't you?"

"More than anything. Carver was such a boy; I'd give anything in order to hear him belch out the alphabet right now. And Bethany…" She keenly missed her sister. Even with the age gap, the two of them were extremely close, almost as if they had been twins instead of Bethany and Carver. Elsa curled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Now with Mother gone, I feel so alone." She laughed to try to lighten the mood and swiped at her cheek with her palm. "I'm sorry; we're supposed to be having a nice lunch and here I go throwing a cloud over an otherwise beautiful day." She froze when Sebastian reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Hawke…_Elsa_," he said, his thumb wiping away a tear she had missed. "You are not alone. You have your friends. They would follow you to the ends of the world if you asked it of them." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And you have me."

Elsa's lips parted and he was lost to her unguarded expression, her dark blue eyes pulling him down as if they were lodestone and he iron. Luckily for him, she broke the spell before he gave into the temptation to kiss her, ducking her head and wrapping her arms around him for a friendly hug.

"Thank you, Sebastian," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "You have no idea how much I value your friendship."

He held her close and pressed his lips against the crown of her head – _a chaste kiss shared between friends,_ he reminded himself, savoring the feel of her in his arms a little more than he probably should. "As I value yours," he murmured, his cheek against the inky black softness of her hair. "As I value yours."


	3. Flirting With Disaster

Title: Flirting with Disaster  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Hawke/Sebastian  
>Summary: During the trip up the Wounded Coast to help Aveline's chances with Donnic, Elsa gets challenged to a dare she can't back out of.<br>Note: I played around a little with the timeline of this. This is still in Act II, but very, very close to the end. There's an implication that Hawke and Sebastian have gotten to know and befriend the other in the three years between Acts I and II and I've moved an Act III flirty conversation up a bit, just because.

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><p>"You're in a mood, Hawke," Varric said, tapping sand off the side of his boot.<p>

Elsa sniffed. "I am not."

"You have been quiet," Sebastian noted, scanning the area ahead of them. So far, the Wounded Coast had been oddly still, the sound of surf hitting the rock and the distant cry of birds the only things breaking the silence.

"Oh, don't mind her," Isabela informed Varric, spinning one of her daggers idly in her fingers. "She just has her smallclothes in a bunch about the way Donnic shot her down yesterday."

Elsa blushed. "He did _not_ shoot me down. There wasn't _anything_ to shoot at."

That earned an indelicate snort from the pirate. "_Right_, Miss _So, Aveline is great_."

"I was making polite small talk!" She kicked at a rock in the path. "How else was I supposed to bring Aveline up in a conversation?"

"I'm sorry, but was that a conversation? From what I saw from my seat at the bar, it looked like the two of you were involved in a staring contest instead."

"It was pretty awkward to watch, even from where I was standing," Varric agreed.

She put her hands on her hips. "Well forgive me for not being an adept conversationalist with a complete stranger. What was I supposed to talk to him about, how his captain wants to get inside his armor?"

Varric chuckled. "If anything, that would have been a pretty good ice breaker."

"You could have at least flirted with him."

Elsa frowned. "Isabela, Aveline is my friend. I'm _trying_ to get her and Donnic together; I don't think it would have been my place to lean over and go _hello, sailor_ at him."

"In all the years that I've known you, I haven't seen you bat so much as an eyelash at anyone, let alone go _hello, sailor_." Isabela smirked. "Truth be told, I don't think you have the guts to flirt."

Elsa made an indignant choking sound at the back of her throat. "Excuse me? I'll have you know that I had the boys of Lothering eating out of the palm of my hand."

"Honey, I've _seen_ the boys of Lothering firsthand at the Pearl. You could be bucktoothed, bearded and missing an eye and they'd _still_ think you were Andraste reborn."

"Okay, so they weren't the best of examples," Elsa conceded, "but the fact of the matter is that I wasn't even _trying_ to flirt with Donnic. Not his type, indeed." Her scowl deepened. "If I had truly been trying, it wouldn't have _mattered_ if I was his type or not."

Varric and Isabela shared a glance, both of them grinning. "So, you're saying that if you meant to, you could fluster anyone?" Behind Elsa's back, Isabela held up ten fingers, but Varric moved his thumb up in a sign to go higher. Isabela gave him a long-suffering look, but nodded her head in agreement.

Isabela smirked and walked alongside Hawke. "Well, I say you can't." She draped her arm around Elsa's shoulder and gave her a friendly squeeze. "I want to see you in action."

Elsa's spine stiffened. "Fine. Once we head back into town, I'll have you pick someone out."

"Oh, we don't have to wait until then; I already have someone in mind." Isabela looked on the trail towards where Sebastian had gone to scout ahead.

"What?" Elsa's eyes followed where her friend's had gone. "Oh, no you don't. He's off limits."

"But you said that you could get _anyone_ to bend to your will, be he your type or not," Varric chimed in. "I have complete faith in your abilities, Hawke."

Elsa shook her head. "I can't, not with him. It wouldn't be…"

"What? Right? Fair? Hawke, have you _seen_ the looks he's given you over the years? The man might be bound by oath not to act on them, but it doesn't mean that he won't appreciate your efforts."

"And I've seen the looks you've given him. You usually go after what you want," Varric elbowed Elsa and grinned. "What's stopping you now?"

"You two are horrible," Elsa said, blowing her hair out of her face. "And you're not going to stop until I do something."

Isabela nodded. "You know us too well. Now go get that prince."

Elsa stumbled, but regained her footing when Isabela shoved her forward on the trail. Remembering what they were out there for in the first place, Elsa crept quietly along the path until she came over to Sebastian. "Have you seen anything?" she whispered, looking over an outcropping of rock.

"Several hounds and a few bandits. I don't think it's anything we should have trouble with," he replied. He gave her a sideways glance. "I heard what they told you."

Elsa gulped, wishing with all her might that the ground would open up and swallow her. "Really?"

He nodded, giving her a raised eyebrow look. "And knowing them, they've put a wager on you as well." He kept his voice low and his eyes glued ahead so that their companions wouldn't catch on to what they were talking about, but Elsa saw the hint of a wicked smirk grace his mouth. "What say we throw a wrench in their plans?"

She looked at him, trying to keep her expression neutral. "What do you have in mind?"

He turned to look at her and Hawke's heart sped up at the slow way his eyes swept over her body before making their way back up to her face. "I might have been in the Chantry for a while, but I have no' forgotten how to act the part of the wild rover." He turned his head back to the trail ahead and gave her a slow wink. "They need to be taken down a peg or two; I'll go along with whatever you have planned if you're willin' to share the winnings."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "I do believe you have yourself a deal."

"I'd offer to seal our pact with a kiss, but then our plan would be over before it started, wouldn't it?"

Elsa blinked. _Dear Maker, I do believe the man is actually flirting with me!_ She couldn't stop the giddy feeling that bubbled up and had to restrain herself from giggling. "Oh, I have my work cut out for me," she said, purposely pitching her voice low. She couldn't help but feel a little thrill of feminine satisfaction at the way that gooseflesh appeared over the exposed bit of skin at the nape of Sebastian's neck or the slight reddish tone his ears had taken.

But then he gave her another slow, lazy smile. "Somehow, I seriously doubt it."

* * *

><p>Practically everyone cringed as they stood there, listening to Aveline and Donnic talk. "It's a nice night for an evening?" Isabela mouthed. "Seriously?"<p>

Elsa shrugged. "Give her a break; this can't be easy for her to do." Her friend was more at home with hitting men with her heavy shield, not holding a friendly discussion with them. She looked at Sebastian, who was busy putting arrows back into his quiver. "And it is a nice night, if not a bit warm." Fanning herself, she crouched down beside him and began searching one of the bodies, pleased when she found that the dead mabari had on a collar lined with gold. Very innocently, she undid the first toggle of her shirt, sighing in relief when the cool breeze hit her skin. Looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes, she arched an eyebrow. "Don't you think so, Sebastian?"

He swallowed hard and tried not to stare too long at her newly exposed cleavage. "A little, though it could stand to be a bit warmer for my tastes." He gave her a pleased smirk when he noted the way that a blush spread over her collarbones and up her neck before she quickly stood up.

Clearing her throat, she turned to Varric and Isabela. "We'd probably better hurry up. Knowing Aveline, she'll be on us before we know it."

* * *

><p>The rest of the trip was spent by killing bandits and hiding their bodies off the trail. Elsa pulled out all the stops, going from the simple touches on Sebastian's arm or shoulder to point something out to adding little innuendos into their conversation. After getting over the initial shock that her normally quiet and tasteful companion was returning her slightly bawdy overtures with volleys of his own, she began to enjoy the back and forth banter they had going on. The two of them were so engrossed in their little game that they had forgotten to wait until either Isabela or Varric were in hearing range to start flirting, which made Isabela's surprised sputter when she walked into a dirtier comment all the more priceless.<p>

"Here, Hawke." Sebastian said, coming up behind her when he realized she was having trouble lighting the last signal fire on the path. "Let me." How he managed to make his position and the hand on her hip look innocent to everyone else was beyond Elsa's comprehension, especially while she was almost undone at the rumbling sound of his voice. _This was a bad idea,_ she thought shakily, inhaling the scent of leather and pine coming off the man at her back. _I'm going to kill those two when we get back into town._ She almost let herself relax against his chest, but stopped at the last minute. She'd had a bit of a crush on Sebastian for going on three years now; letting herself act on her attraction, even in jest, was a tremendous tactical error on her part.

"The tinder doesn't want to light," she said, her voice coming out in a strangled whisper.

He took the flint and strike stone out of her hands. "Things like this can be hard to manage," he agreed, stepping closer to her in order to set the signal fire ablaze. "But for the most part, all you need is the right… _spark_ to start a flame." Elsa stared up at his eyes, losing herself in the intense way he stared back. He licked his lips and she fought the urge to stand on the tips of her toes and press her lips against his, especially when it seemed as if he was in the process of bowing his head to come in for a kiss.

"Hawke!" Elsa guiltily spun away from Sebastian to face Aveline and Donnic. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" she took a breath. "Why don't you tell him instead?" she suddenly asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She might have been for helping her friend out, but it was best if Donnic heard from Aveline firsthand.

"Is there something I should know?" Donnic cautiously asked. "Guard-Captain?"

Isabela threw her hands in the air. "Oh, I've had it with all this dancing around! Just bend her over a basin already!"

"I could draw you a few pictures of where she wants to touch you," Varric added helpfully, watching as Aveline turned as red as her hair.

"I think I'll be heading back to the barracks," Donnic said, backing slowly away from them all. Aveline stared after him, looking like she was at a loss for words.

"I thought you were supposed to be my friend," she finally hissed, her eyes narrowed.

"And friends sometimes push," Elsa replied calmly.

Aveline's anger lasted for all but a few seconds before it was replaced with something Elsa could only define as sheer panic. "I can still fix this," she said. "I can explain before he files a complaint with the Viscount. And _you_ are going to explain your part in all this to him. Double-time it to the barracks, Hawke. I mean it."

* * *

><p>"You heard the lady," Varric said, checking Bianca over for any scratches as soon as they got back into town. "You'd better get going."<p>

"You're not coming along with me? This is as much your doing as it is mine."

He shook his head. "Nah. I've got just about enough info to start up a new serial; I want to get it written down while the idea is still fresh in my head."

Elsa looked at Sebastian. "You might want to get away from the blast radius," she said. "It could get messy."

He gave her a questioning look. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I'll see you later."

Sebastian's eyes flicked up behind her, telling Elsa he was aware of the way that Varric and Isabela were hanging onto every word they said. On impulse, he took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. "Then I'll keep an eye out for you." He winked and let go of her hand, turning on his heel to head up towards the Chantry.

"Well, this has been fun, but I've got a date with a horrible poet," Isabela said, rolling her eyes. "I'm certain that he'll tell me my eyes remind him of limpid pools of gooey caramel or some such nonsense."

Elsa shook her head, her hand still tingling where Sebastian's lips had been. "I think you secretly _like_ all the attention he's giving you."

Isabela's lip curled up. "Please, if I have to sit there and hear how my lips are like wingless, naked red birds one more time, I'm going to stab myself in the ears." She dusted her hands off and started to walk away. "The things I do for a free drink."

"Wait, I think you and I have some unfinished business that needs to be conducted," Varric said, stopping her in her tracks. He stuck out his hand at Isabela and wiggled his fingers. "Pay up, Rivaini."

Isabela sighed. "Oh, balls." Pulling out her money pouch, she took out twenty silver pieces. Varric grinned and let the money clink in his palm, but looked up when Elsa swooped in and snatched it.

"I'll be taking this," she said.

"Hey!"

She held out her hand much like Varric had. "And I'll be taking your share as well. The two of you should know better than to try to put bets on me." She put the forty silver pieces into her own money bag at her hip, the pieces making a merry sounding jingle. Isabela laughed at Varric's fallen expression before turning towards Lowtown.

"You know Hawke, I think you got the better end of the deal," he told her. "Just make sure to buy the man a drink when you catch up to him."

She frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He scoffed. "Sure you don't. You'd better get going, Hawke. Aveline doesn't wait for anyone."

Varric watched as Elsa started up the stairs to the Keep. "Does she think I was brought to the surface yesterday?" he snorted. Grinning, he looked towards the Chantry. "Best forty silvers I've ever lost."

* * *

><p>It was late before Elsa finally gathered enough nerve to climb the Chantry steps. Her business in Aveline's office had been finished relatively quickly; just as she thought, Donnic harbored the same feelings towards Aveline that her friend held for him. It probably would have taken them longer to realize it without everyone else's input, but it seemed as if everything was well on that front. Donnic had caught Elsa before she had left and had thanked her for her help, sheepishly adding in an apology for his suspicions in the Hanged Man.<p>

She was purposely dragging her feet when it came to confronting Sebastian and she knew it. Part of her didn't want their little game to come to an end, didn't want to suddenly go back to being friends after an afternoon of pretending that there might be something more between them. Another part of her was incredibly worried that he _would_ catch on to how she felt about him and that things would be awkward between them from now on. She was in the middle of fretting when she accidentally bumped into someone.

"I'm sorry!" she said automatically, swallowing when she realized that she had run straight into Sebastian. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"You did look like you were deep in thought." Offering his elbow, he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Care to take a walk with me?"

They wandered out of the Chantry's side doors and into one of the vegetable gardens. The sun was starting to set over the walls, painting everything a rosy golden color. "I never knew this was here," Elsa commented.

"The Sisters keep the gardens to help feed the needy," Sebastian explained, reaching up to pick a blossom from a nearby pear tree. He held it to his nose before tucking it behind Elsa's ear.

"Speaking of," she said thickly, her heart pounding in her ears. "I have something for the collection box." She pulled out her money pouch and pressed it against Sebastian's palm.

"If this is my share of the profits, then I wonder how much they actually bet on you," he said, weighing it in his hand before slipping it into his pocket.

"It's my share as well. I figured that it would do better helping others than sitting in my pocket." She fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve. "About that, I…"

"I have something I need to tell…" he said at the same time.

She blushed. "You go first."

"No, ladies first."

Worrying her lip, she looked down at her boots. "I'm so sorry that I put you in such a position this afternoon, Sebastian. I know that you take your vows very seriously and as a friend, I should have respected that. None of this would have happened in the first place if I hadn't been griping about Donnic shooting me down."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you said that there hadn't _been_ anything to shoot at, Hawke."

His teasing tone had her looking back up at him. "My stubborn pride, perhaps," she admitted. "It tends to get me in trouble, like playing games with a trusted friend."

"Then I for one am glad of your stubborn pride." He stepped closer to her. "And for your information, I was never playing a game."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Sebastian...don't."

He frowned. "Don't what, Elsa? Don't tell you how I feel, how I've truly felt for some time now?"

"But your vows…"

"I've spoken to her Grace and explained to her that I plan on retaking my family's lands. She has agreed to release me from my vows to the Chantry." He reached out and framed her face in his hands. "Princes were never meant for chastity."

"You said that you were never playing," she said, slightly embarrassed that her voice had been reduced to a croak. "But if you're playing now…"

"'Tis no game. I've respected and admired you for a very long time, Hawke. You've been a good friend and I hope," he took a breath and rested his forehead against hers. "I hope that you could feel something for me in return."

Elsa leaned into him. "I do," she confessed. "I have for years."

The smile he gave her made her feel as if her heart would leap out of her chest. "Good," he said, lowering his head to hers. She let her eyes flutter closed, but was surprised when she felt his lips against her cheek. "I want to pursue this, but I'll not give you anything less than what a prince can offer."

"So, what does that make us?"

He laced his fingers with hers and brought their combined hands to his heart. "It makes us friends, as we've always been. Yet now there's a promise of something more."

She closed the distance between them, resting her head against his shoulder and inhaling the scent of leather and incense that always seemed to cling to him. "I think I can live with that," she said, feeling a silly grin spread over her face.

He wrapped his free arm around her shoulder and held her close. "My heart," he murmured, daring to finally voice the endearment that he'd ached to call her for the longest time. "I think I can live with that as well."


	4. In Sickness and in Health 1

Title: In Sickness and in Health  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Hawke/Sebastian  
>Summary: There's nothing better than spending a rainy afternoon with the one you love.<br>Note: Takes place sometime between Acts II and III.

* * *

><p>It started with a light spattering of raindrops along the Wounded Coast. By the time that they reached the city, the light rain had transformed into a deluge that made it hard to see anything a few feet ahead of them. Sebastian let out a muffled curse as his boots slid in the mud, his leg throbbing from the slashing knife wound above his knee.<p>

"Are you all right?" Elsa asked, holding him up before he pitched face first onto the pavement. Her hood had kept most of the rain out, but black tendrils of hair still clung wetly to her forehead and cheeks.

"Just lost my footing," he hissed out between clenched teeth. His chest ached as well; normally Elsa, Fenris and Aveline formed an offensive line while he hung back and attacked at a distance, but the ambush happened before they could properly shape their ranks. Sebastian had to rely on the dagger he kept at his hip to fend off the closest attackers before he had any breathing room to wield his bow. He had been swamped and was sure that he'd be hurt more than he had, but then Elsa had thrown one of her smoke bombs and suddenly she was at his back, her knives flashing as she helped whittle away their opponents.

"I don't think I can take another staircase," Elsa moaned, favoring her right side as they found refuge underneath the stone archway close to her home. "I'm so glad we're already in Hightown."

Now it was his turn to be concerned. "Are _you_ all right?"

She flashed one of her charming smiles his way. "Nothing a hot bath and dry clothes can't cure, I assure you."

"Which is exactly what I'm planning on doing once I reach the barracks," Aveline stated. "Hawke, do you need anything else?"

"No, go get out of this mess." She smirked. "Or find out where your husband is and see if he can't help warm you up instead." Elsa laughed at Aveline's slight blush, but the guardswoman waved to her friend as she walked off.

"I think I'll take my leave as well," Fenris noted. The rain had plastered his hair to his scalp and he looked miserable.

"Are you sure you'll be…" Concern colored Elsa's question, but Fenris' curt nod cut her off.

"There are interior rooms that have fared better than the one I normally frequent." Fenris frowned and reached out, his fingers tracing a ragged tear on Elsa's sleeve. "That will need to be cared for," he said quietly.

She looked down at her arm. The rain had done a good job of cleaning away the blood, but the skin around her elbow still stung like crazy. "I'll get to that," she promised him. "Good night, Fenris. I'll see you tomorrow."

"This rain is coming down in sheets," Sebastian commented, just to fill in the sudden silence that had descended upon them.

"Yes, and I don't feel right having you out in this weather. Would you like to come inside and dry off a bit until the rain lets up?" She had seen how he was limping and knew that the steep Chantry steps would be a challenge for him. "I'll sweeten the deal and throw in a pot of tea and some scones."

His expression brightened. "Scones, you say?"

"Fresh baked this morning. I made far too many and they're going to wind up going stale if you don't help me finish them."

He smiled down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "With an offer like that, my lady, how can I refuse?"

* * *

><p>Elsa cringed as she toed off her muddy boots in her house's entranceway, thinking about the puddles of rainwater they were going to leave behind. Almost as if he knew she would be there, Bodahn was at her side armed with thick towels. She gratefully took one and began to blot her hair, handing the other to Sebastian.<p>

"I thought you might need this as well, Messere," Bodahn said, appearing once again with a well-stocked first aid kit in his hands.

"You are a blessing," Elsa told him, taking the kit. The dwarf flushed and mumbled something, hiding his pleased expression in his beard before heading towards the kitchens to heat up a kettle for tea.

"You really are fortunate to have such a manservant," Sebastian observed, involuntarily taking a sharp breath when he raised his arm too high.

"You're hurt," she told him, taking his hand and guiding him through the main room and into the library, the fire blazing in the hearth making the smaller room all the more cozier.

"It's just a scratch."

"Uh huh. Why is it that you men decide to tough out your injuries and yet fall to pieces when we women barely break a nail?"

"When have I ever fallen to pieces?"

She arched an eyebrow and set the kit on the sofa situated near the fireplace. "Last week when we were hunting down that bounty."

"Elsa, you were set _on fire_. I think that ranks a little higher than a broken nail." He _had_ panicked, but then again, who in their right mind _wouldn't_ when the woman that they cared for was rolling on the ground in an attempt to extinguish the flames that had enveloped her legs? After sending an arrow into the apostate mage's skull, he had rushed to her side, checking her for any extensive damage. Luckily, her pants had only gotten scorched and besides bemoaning the loss of a favorite pair of trousers, she was otherwise unharmed.

"All right, I'll give you that one. Now humor me and get this armor off. I need to patch you up." Without asking, she stood on tiptoe and began to unbuckle the straps holding his breastplate together.

He attempted to bat her hands away. "I told you, it's just a scratch. Don't fuss, Hawke."

"Scratches tend to get infected if not cared for, Vael," she told him. She only used his last name when she was irritated with him, which wasn't often, but it was enough of a warning for him to silently capitulate, his fingers undoing familiar clasps faster than her fumbling attempts.

"That is _not_ a scratch," she stated, her stomach flipping at the angry looking slash across his collarbone that his torn tunic exposed. "Why didn't you say that you were hurt earlier?"

"We didn't have any potions with us; what good would it have done if I had told you?"

"We would have come back earlier!"

"And then traipsing about in the rain would have been pointless if we only had to go back without getting what we had set out for in the first place."

"Of all the stubborn, pigheaded…" Elsa tugged at the hem of his tunic, un-tucking it from his waistband. Sebastian effectively stopped her tirade by lightly pressing on the skin at her left elbow, making her suck in a sharp gasp of her own.

"You were saying?" he asked, an eyebrow winging up. Gently, he pushed her sleeve up her arm, exposing a long, thin cut that was sluggishly seeping blood. "I'll make you a deal: you let me tend this and I'll let you play nurse to your heart's content." His leg nearly buckled after standing for so long and he sank down onto the sofa, the kit sliding towards him on the cushions.

"Fine, but I'd rather…"

"I'll have no arguments, Hawke. The matter is closed." He palmed her hips in his hands and drew her in to stand between his legs so he could reach her better, fully aware of the little squeak she let out and the way her eyes widened at the contact. He fought the urge to hold her close, wondering exactly when this woman had managed to get so deeply under his skin that it pained him to ever think of living his life without her. Sebastian had told her that he wouldn't give her anything less than what a prince could offer the last time their relationship had come up in a discussion, but now he had started to put more heat in his gaze when they were alone together. He'd also taken to letting his hands wander over her body in a way that was _probably_ straddling the line of gentlemanlike behavior, but as of yet, she'd never voiced a complaint.

"Sebastian?" Her fingers were in his hair, absently brushing the still wet strands out of his face.

"Sorry. I was woolgathering." He reached for the pot of red medicinal paste, gingerly dabbing a thick amount onto her injury. The tips of his fingers tingled as the paste helped heal tiny nicks and cuts he hadn't known he had. He wrapped Elsa's arm with gauze and tucked the loose ends together. "I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"And I don't like seeing you hurt either," she said softly, tracing his cheek with her fingers. She plucked at the neck of his shirt. "Now, I do believe that you said once I was put back to rights that I could play nurse to my heart's content."

"Get out of those wet clothes first and we'll talk."

She laughed, stepping away from him. "Why your Highness, are you suggesting something?" The teasing tone was back in her voice and he was glad to hear it, even it if meant that a flustered blush spread across his cheeks. _That_ never ceased to amaze him – a man who once left scores of broken hearts all along the Free Marches was reduced to a blushing boy whenever it came to her. It was just another thing that he loved about Elsa.

He grinned up at her. "You know what I meant. Go get changed before you catch your death of cold." He watched appreciatively as she walked out of the library before pulling the leg of his pants up to examine the damage above his knee. He winced as he doctored himself, the bandage he tied on uncomfortable even through several layers of gauze padding. Job done, he sat back and let out a great sneeze.

"Speaking of someone catching their death," Elsa mused, seeming to appear out of nowhere. She'd changed into the soft rose colored dress she often wore around her house, but had neglected to wear any shoes. She had a bundle of cloth in her arms and she laid it across the arm of the sofa. "I'm going to see about getting that tea and scones while you change."

Sebastian grunted as he pulled off his sodden tunic and pants. The dark brown replacement trowsers were a bit baggy around the waist and had multiple patches on the knees, but were soft and warm. The shirt she had offered him was a light tan that had similar patches sewn on the elbows. He left the shirt where it was for the time being, padding barefoot towards the fireplace to warm up. He turned his head when he heard Elsa making a great deal of noise in the hallway to announce her presence, dishes clattering on whatever tray she had with her.

"I have to warn you, Bodhan made the tea. _Tea isn't tea unless it makes your beard stand on end,_ or so he always says." She left the tray on a nearby side table and went over to Sebastian. He had always marveled about her: how this petite woman whose head barely skimmed his shoulders could be a compact bundle of deadly energy one moment and the picture of serenity the next. Now that her feet were just as bare as his, their height difference was even more apparent. He absently noted that she had red lacquer on her toenails, which he had overheard being a popular trend among the women in Kirkwall. The bright color stood out from her pale, pale skin and he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away. "Now, about that cut." She guided him back to the sofa and lit a nearby lamp so she could see better.

"It looks worse than it feels," Sebastian eyed the platter of round scones. Even though she said that she had made them that morning, she must have placed them near the kitchen fire because they looked as warm as if they had just gotten out of the oven. "Is that clotted cream over there?"

"And strawberry jam." Her lips lifted up in a fond smile. "Should I bandage you up now or should I wait?"

"No, no. Bandage away, Nurse Hawke." He returned her smile with one of his own. "It's just that I haven't had scones like those in a very long time." _Not since I had been a boy, my legs dangling in the air while I sat on a stool in the kitchens and listened to the cooks work._ It was a homey memory, one that he was glad that Elsa had brought up.

"I'm happy to see that Carver's clothes fit," she said, dabbing a cloth with a strong smelling antiseptic. Her family had stuffed their belongings into bags without any care to whom it belonged to when they had fled Lothering. It had been a comfort to find out that several pieces of her brother's clothing had made it into her pack and she kept them carefully folded and put away in a chest for sentimental reasons. "He was bulkier about the chest and shoulders than you are, but your height is just about right. This is going to sting a little."

Sebastian claimed a small victory in the fact that he hadn't jumped out of his seat once Elsa dabbed at his cut. "What is that, acidic coating?" he yelped, flinching as he watched bubbles form across the shallow line.

"It's something Anders swears by in the clinic to ward off infections. I know it hurts, but trust me, it really works wonders in the long run." She leaned closer to him and gently blew on the offended skin, raising gooseflesh in her wake.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you did that on purpose," Sebastian told her, an involuntary groan slipping past his lips. Elsa looked up from her handiwork and noticed his hooded eyes and shallow breath. In that moment, she gave up all pretense of keeping a clinical viewpoint on having him bare-chested in front of her. She gave him a wicked smirk and let her eyes sweep leisurely across the expanse of naked skin before looking him in the eye.

"Well, that wasn't my intent, but," she let her breath ghost across his shoulder again. "_This_ is entirely on purpose."

Sebastian specialized in long distance fighting and normally had a slow, deliberate pace to all his movements, which made Elsa forget that he could move with lightning-fast speed when it suited him. He used that speed now, dragging her into his lap, heedless of his injured knee. "You test the limits of my control," he rasped, nipping at her earlobe before burying his face in her hair. He felt her pulse jump against his cheek and he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, not wanting to break contact just yet. It was only when the back of her leg pressed against his injured knee that he reluctantly let her go, his hands warm on her sides.

"I'm sorry," she told him, fumbling for the jar of ointment. "I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I can't help myself." She ducked her head, her hair falling in front of her face to hide her reddened cheeks.

He reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear. "My very own temptress," he teased, giving her a lopsided grin. "However did I get so fortunate?"

She finished wrapping a long bandage over his collarbone and around the top portion of his chest before stepping away to put her first aid kit back in order. "Blind luck that I decided to accept your letter on the Chanter's Board?"

He slipped his borrowed shirt over his head and came up behind her. "I prefer to call it fate instead." Mindful of her injuries, he settled his hands on her arms and bent his head so he could press a kiss to her temple.

She sighed his name, tilting her head back so it could rest on his shoulder. She bit her lip when he trailed his lips along the side of her neck before turning in his arms. "It seems that I'm not the only one testing limits today," she said. She was trying for a playful tone of voice, but what came out sounded low and throaty like something Isabela might have said instead. She looked up at him, noticing that the ends of his hair were starting to curl as it dried. Her fingers itched to run through the thick auburn mess, to drag him down to her level and kiss him like she had wanted to do ever since she first met him. Her breath caught in her throat at the way that his eyes darkened and she silently cursed whatever chivalrous vows he had taken to replace the recently lifted ones from the Chantry.

"My heart, you'll be the death of me," he murmured, taking her hand in his. He pressed her palm against his cheek, turning his head so he could kiss her fingers. "I swear once I retake my family's lands, I will be yours. Until then…"

She stroked the side of his face, the beginning traces of stubble catching on her fingertips. She resigned herself to the fact that Sebastian was a man of his word. Nothing she could do would sway him from the promises he made to others or to himself, and honestly, she wouldn't have him any other way. "Until then," she said, leading him back to the sofa and the table full of snacks. "We'll sit and drink our tea and wait for the rain to let up." She poured a cup and offered it to him.

Settling down on the sofa, he bit into one of the scones, savoring the warm, buttery taste that complimented the strong black tea. Elsa curled her legs underneath her and leaned against his side. Content, he slung an arm around Elsa and smiled when she began to yawn, thinking that there was no greater pleasure to be had than spending an afternoon drowsing in front of a roaring fire with the sound of rain hitting the windowpanes.

Sebastian stretched his legs out in front of him and closed his eyes, hoping that the rain never stopped.


	5. In Sickness and in Health 2

Title: In Sickness and in Health (2/3)  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Sebastian/Hawke  
>Summary: Winter illnesses sweep across Kirkwall, sparing hardly anyone, including a certain stubborn archer who insists that he's "just fine."<p>

* * *

><p>"You look awful."<p>

Sebastian turned his head and muffled his cough in the crook of his elbow. "That's not one of your finer compliments," he teased, reaching for a jar of herbs. Wintertime was known for the spread of illnesses, especially among the poor who couldn't afford to insulate their homes well enough to keep the chill and damp out. The Chantry's infirmaries were filled to capacity and Sebastian had spent much of his free time among the sick to try to ease the burden of caring for so many from the resident Mothers and Sisters.

He might have felt the slightest twinge of jealousy that Elsa had been caring for patients in Anders' Darktown clinic instead of with him, but the fact that people were being cared for, no matter their location, overrode such emotion. Or so he liked to tell himself. Sometimes he even believed it.

Elsa frowned and put her hands on her hips. "I'm serious, Sebastian. You don't look well at all."

"I'm fine, if only a little tired."

"You look as if you're dead on your feet."

He mirrored her frown. "You don't have to be as dramatic as that; I'm perfectly fine." His body decided to betray him right then, sending him into a coughing fit that had him holding the edge of the worktable for balance. "I've a bit of a scratch in my throat, but it's nothing serious."

She rocked back on her heels and gave him one of her looks that she usually reserved whenever she was sizing up an opponent and debating whether she could take them on by herself. "You've been working all day, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "It's only mid-morning."

She shook her head. "Sebastian, its well past four in the afternoon."

"Huh. I guess I didn't hear the noon bell in here." It also explained why his back ached as much as it did. He often found himself forgetting the time when he cared for others.

She stood next to him and ran her hand over his cheek. He closed his eyes and pressed her palm closer to his skin, sighing at how cool her hand was. The infirmary windows were closed to ward off the blasts of cold wind and there was a fire blazing in the iron brazier situated in the middle of the room that made the place feel stuffy. "You're long overdue for a little break. Why don't we go back to my place and I'll make you something to drink for your throat? Some honeyed tea would do wonders, I bet."

"That does sound incredibly tempting, but…" He ran his finger under the collar of his tunic, thinking that it would be good to get out of the infirmary for a little while, if only to escape the heat temporarily.

She wrapped her arms around his left arm and looked up at him from underneath her lashes. "Please? We've both been so busy lately that we haven't truly spent any time together. I've missed you."

And that was where he caved. "I've missed you too," he confessed, untangling his arm from hers so he could give her a proper hug. He brushed his lips over her forehead, grateful when he encountered cool skin. He'd been so worried that she would fall ill; having her healthy and in his arms was a blessing. "I'm certain that I can slip away for an hour or so. Let me get my coat."

* * *

><p>Sebastian peeled his gloves from his hands and shed his coat, giving both items to Bodhan, who greeted them at the door. "Make yourself comfortable," Elsa told him. "I'll be in the kitchen putting together something to eat."<p>

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself, Messere," Bodhan said. "I could…"

She waved him off. "Oh, no, I insist." She turned back to Sebastian and winked. "I'll be right back."

Elsa's sitting room was one of Sebastian's favorite places in the estate. She must have been planning to spend some time in the room because a fire crackled warmly in the fireplace and an opened book laid spine-up on the chaise lounge nearby. He ran his finger underneath his collar again and sat on the chaise, picking up her book. He marked her place and began to read a random page, noting that it was one of Varric's serials. Between the warmth of the fire and finally being off his feet for the first time that day, he must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Elsa was leaning over him, her fingers gently carding through his hair.

"I almost hate to wake you," she said, sitting down next to him. "You look like you need a nap."

He noted the dark smudges underneath her eyes. "I'm not the only one who looks like they need a break. How many hours have you put in at the clinic?"

She shook her head. "Not very many. Anders chased me out this morning after I delivered some soup I made for his patients." Maneuvering a huge stockpot full to the brim of scalding hot broth down her cellar stairs would have been a challenge if not for the fact that Anders had used a few stabilization spells to keep everything from sloshing around. "He said he's getting a few serious cases and he didn't want me catching anything." She reached over and handed a plate full of roast beef and potatoes to him. When he finally smelled the food, he realized just how hungry he had been.

"You aren't eating?"

"I had something earlier." She sat with him and they talked companionably while Sebastian ate. She took his plate when he was finished and then rose from the chaise to pour two cups of tea. There was something incredibly domestic about sitting in front of the fire while the wind howled outside, talking about everything and nothing in particular that appealed to Sebastian.

"I really ought to get back to the infirmary," he said, his eyelids growing heavy. He turned his head away and coughed again. He thought that he heard a rattling in his chest after the coughing fit subsided, but dismissed it. "They'll need me soon."

"I don't think you're going to be able to go for a while," she cautioned, setting her cup aside. It took all his strength, but he managed to turn his head and look at her. She was perched on the edge of the chaise and watching him like her namesake, her entire body tensed as if she were waiting for something.

"What did you do?" he asked, his voice slurring as his mug fell from slack fingers. She seemed to have been anticipating it, her hand catching the china cup before it fell to the floor. "The tea…" He would have said something else, but the room blurred and his eyes slid closed.

"I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered, standing up and grabbing his ankles. She hoisted his legs up onto the chaise lounge and arranged him so that he'd be comfortable. "I hate doing this, but it was the only way." She placed a throw pillow behind him and put the back of her hand against his forehead. Sebastian was burning up, just like she had suspected back in the infirmary. The coughing was another alarming symptom; if left untreated, he ran the chance of hacking up blood, just like the others in Anders' clinic.

"Did it work, Messere?" Bodhan asked from the doorway. She'd explained her plan to him in the kitchen while penning a quick letter to the Grand Cleric to explain Sebastian's absence from the Chantry. She'd have Bodhan deliver it for her later, but first she needed to figure out how she was going to get an unconscious Sebastian upstairs. Elsa had slipped two packets of a mild sedative into Sebastian's tea, which meant that she probably had a few hours before he woke up. They were safe; she often took the same dosage when she was plagued with nightmares and she never felt any ill effects.

"Like a charm," she replied. She worried at her bottom lip before making a decision. "If you could, please deliver the letter to Elthina for me," she said. Sebastian was going to be cross with her when he woke, but that was the chance she was going to have to take. "I'm heading into Darktown for a while. I'll be back before he wakes."

* * *

><p>"Refresh my memory, Hawke," Anders huffed, swaying on the staircase. "Why am I doing this again?"<p>

"Because you're a big, strong Grey Warden who's capable of carrying a grown man up a flight of stairs?"

"Capable of carrying an _unconscious_ man up a flight of stairs, you mean. And how did Mister High and Mighty end up like this?" To Anders' credit, he hadn't asked any questions in his clinic, he'd merely followed her back up her cellar and into her house.

"I drugged his tea so he wouldn't leave and infect others recovering in the infirmary." She glared at him when he began to laugh, Sebastian slipping further down in the mage's grasp. "Oh, don't laugh! I feel bad enough as it is!" She hiked up Sebastian's legs higher so he wouldn't hit the next step.

Anders snickered some more, but he tightened his arms around Sebastian's chest and helped carry him past the staircase and into Elsa's bedroom. "Are you sure that this is a good idea?" he asked, winging her door open with his hip.

"I'd put him in one of the guest rooms, but this is the only one that doesn't have a draft."

"And just where are _you_ going to sleep while he's here?" With a grunt, Anders deposited Sebastian on the bed. She was grateful that he had decided to go into Medical Mode once Sebastian was situated, busying himself with checking Sebastian's pulse and temperature.

"One of the closer guest rooms, where else?" She got to work unlacing Sebastian's boots, placing them neatly at the foot of her bed. She leveled a glance at Anders, who was looking back at her. "Oh, please. He's going to be as weak as a kitten in three or four hours; he's not going to have the strength to lift his head, let alone wander down the hall and ravish me."

Anders rolled his eyes at her tone. Waving his hand over Sebastian's body, he cast a small ice spell before pulling Sebastian's shirt over his head. "This will help bring his temperature down. Has he been coughing up anything?"

"Not that I know of. He does have the beginnings of that awful rattle though."

"Stage One, not that bad. I'm glad that you caught it before he could get any worse." He dispelled the bright white spell wisp and brushed off his hands. "Keep him cool until the fever breaks and then keep him warm. Make sure he gets plenty of fluids; give him that potion I taught you to make the other day every six hours. Sleep is the best thing for him right now; the more he gets the better. I'll come to check up on how you're doing when I'm able."

"Thank you, Anders," she said, going downstairs with him to the cellar door. "I really appreciate all your help."

He gave her a graceful shrug. "What are friends for? Just be sure to tell our favorite Chantry mouse that he owes me big time when he wakes up. He's heavy, that one. I might have pulled something."

* * *

><p>She had expected Sebastian to sleep for a few hours, but he never fully woke up that first day. His eyes opened, but by that time, the fever had him in its grip, making him stare up at her with glassy eyes and silently accept the water she had carefully given him in small sips. He drifted in and out of wakefulness, leaning into Elsa's touch when she applied cool cloths to his head and the back of his neck. As the sun went down and the lamps outside were lit, Sebastian began to thrash in his sleep, his fists clenched at his sides as he half-yelled what Elsa recognized to be his older brothers' names. Not knowing what to do, Elsa sat on the edge of the bed, her hands pinning his flailing arms.<p>

"Shh, it's just a nightmare," she whispered, slowly rocking back and forth, her fingers smoothing over his hair as he called out in his sleep for his mother. Reaching over to the bedside table, she wrung out another damp cloth and ran it over his sweaty neck and chest. Anders had been right to take his shirt off beforehand; it would have been soaked otherwise. She made a move to slide off the bed and get more cold water, but Sebastian wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. Elsa ran the cloth over his cheek, noting that his eyes were unfocused and it wasn't very likely that he even knew who she was. "They all left; stay wi' me."

Her heart ached for him and she began to croon a tune she had often heard him hum to himself any time they made camp outside the city and he wasn't aware that anyone was listening. "Always," she promised, settling down amongst the pillows. Sebastian rolled to his side and rested his head against her shoulder, his arm draping around her waist. "I'm not going anywhere." She began to hum again and Sebastian fell into a fitful sleep. It wasn't long before Elsa followed him.

* * *

><p>She woke to the sickening feel of wet sheets against her skin. Blinking, she guessed that it was a little bit before dawn and Sebastian's fever had finally broken. He was shivering almost violently at her side, his teeth clattering together, but at least he wasn't blazing hot any more. Sliding out of bed, Elsa's head turned towards her door when she heard someone tap on the doorframe.<p>

"I thought that he'd be in this stage," Anders whispered. He looked worn out, but he leaned over Sebastian and checked him over, nodding his head in approval. "We need to get him clean and warm. Do you have a tub we could use?"

"Down the hall and to the right. I'll start filling it now."

"Just fill it halfway and don't bother with heating the water; there are upsides to being a mage, after all." He followed Elsa down to the bathing chamber and let out a low whistle. "Why haven't I seen this before?" he asked, looking the room over.

"I keep on telling everyone that I have running water, but does anyone take me up on my offer to use it? No…" She knelt and turned the tap on, listening as the pipes in the walls groaned. It wasn't cold enough yet that she'd have to worry about the pipes freezing, but it was getting there. While she might have indoor plumbing like many of the mansions in Hightown, the boiler attached to the hot water spigot was incredibly small in comparison to many of the newer homes around her.

"Well, consider me sold. I'll be gathering my threadbare towel and wooden duckie as soon as I get back to my clinic." Anders turned off the taps, rolled up his sleeve, and stuck his hand in the tub. The hair at the back of Elsa's neck lifted at the familiar burst of magic that caused steam to waft off the surface of the water. She busied herself with gathering extra towels and laying out a set of Sebastian's clean clothes she had the forethought to ask Bodhan to bring back from his trip to the Chantry. The Grand Cleric was understanding, sending word back with Bodhan that she wished to visit Sebastian as soon as he was well enough for visitors.

"Are you going to help or are you going to pull a blushing maiden act on me and I have to do this bit by myself?" Anders asked when they went back to Elsa's room to collect Sebastian. Elsa bit the inside of her cheek. Practicality said that she help as much as possible – they were all adults and summer evenings spent skinny dipping with her friends in the river near Lothering meant that she'd seen her share of naked men. And yet…

"I can help," she started, slightly grunting as she slipped her arm around Sebastian's waist and braced part of his dead weight while Anders did the same on his other side. Between the two of them, they walked him to the bathing chamber. "But I think that he'd have…" she searched for a word, "_issues_ with having me see him nude, no matter the circumstances."

Anders rolled his eyes and muttered something about prissy Chantry morals before shooing Elsa out. The last thing she heard before she closed the door was Anders going "You know Vael, if she were anyone else, I would have left you on your own. I hope you appreciate what a lucky bastard you are; Maker only knows what she sees in you."

While Anders was bathing Sebastian, she hurried to strip the sheets and replace them with clean ones. She also dug through her linen trunk and fished out several thick blankets, leaving them folded on the foot of the bed.

"He's snug in bed," Anders declared, finding Elsa later on in the kitchen. It was still too early to start the hearth fire, but she put together a quick breakfast of bread, cheese and a selection of fruits. "And I've given him another dose of potion. He just might make it."

She hugged him. "You don't know how grateful I am to have you as a friend," she started. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

He tightened his arms around her. "Breakfast would be a very good start," he said flippantly. He held her at arm's length and looked at her critically. "And how do _you_ feel? I distinctly remember you saying that you were going to sleep in the guest bedroom instead of in bed with a _highly_ contagious patient."

She blushed. "He asked me to stay; I couldn't very well leave him." She tilted her head upwards while Anders prodded at the sides of her throat with his fingers and asked her to open her mouth so he could see her tongue. "I feel fine; the minute I begin to cough or run a temperature, I'll run downstairs for you."

"Everything looks fine," he said, plucking an apple slice from the plate. "Just to be on the safe side, you'd better take a dose of that potion once a day until His Highness is better, just for a preventative measure."

Elsa rocked up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Anders' stubbly cheek. "Eat your breakfast," she said. "I'm going to take a quick bath, but after I'm done, the tub is yours. Then I want you to head into the guest bedroom and get some sleep. You can't care for anyone if you push yourself to the point of exhaustion."

He grinned, tearing off a chunk of bread and biting into it. "Yes, ma'am," he said, straightening his stance and giving her a mock salute. "But I don't know how I'll be able to bathe without my duckie to test the water for sharks."

Her laughter floated down the hall. "Don't worry; you can borrow mine."

* * *

><p>The sun was starting to turn the sky a pale pink when Elsa stuck her head into the guest bedroom. Anders was sprawled out underneath the covers and softly snoring away, his hair clean and spread out over the pillow. She tiptoed in and tucked the blankets over his shoulders, gently brushing stray strands of hair out of his face. He didn't move an inch, which told her just how fatigued he really was. Normally he was an incredibly light sleeper, his eyes snapping open at any little noise. She put another log in the ornate brazier in the corner before leaving and closing the door behind her.<p>

Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she padded down the hall to her own room. Sebastian was curled on his side facing the door, the light from the fireplace flickering over his face. Anders had piled several blankets over him in an attempt to keep him warm, but he still suffered from chills. Even from the doorway she could tell that he was shaking underneath all the covers. After adding two more logs into the fireplace, she crawled into bed on top of the blankets and spooned up behind him, hoping to add her body's warmth to the pile. She kissed his shoulder and splayed her hand over his heart, noticing before she began to drift off that he had considerably stopped shivering.

* * *

><p>The first thing that Sebastian noticed when he woke was that his head ached. The second thing was that he was lying in an unfamiliar bed with silk sheets that held the intoxicating smell of cloves, oranges and the sweet floral scent of heather that made him believe for one moment that he was back in Starkhaven. He didn't recognize the bedroom he was in when he finally opened his gritty eyes. He frowned, realizing that he only wore a pair of trousers underneath the thick pile of blankets and he wondered just where his clothes went.<p>

"You're awake." The bed dipped beside him and he stared up at Elsa's relieved face. She put the back of her hand against his forehead. "And you don't have a fever."

"Elsa?" He cleared his throat, feeling as if someone had stuffed cotton in his mouth as he slept. "What am I doing here?" He tried to sit up, but found that his arms were as weak as overcooked noodles.

"You got sick," she explained. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He frowned. There were vague flashes of half-remembered moments; Elsa sitting in the chair by the bed reading aloud to him, the taste of beef broth, the cool feel of her hands on him, the comforting sound of her voice as she hummed one of the lullabies his mother had often sang to him as a child. "You cared for me," he said slowly, grunting weakly as Elsa helped prop him up against the headboard. At this close proximity, he realized that the smells from home were coming from whatever soap or perfume Elsa used. He'd never noticed it before, but he found the fragrance incredibly appealing on her. "How long was I asleep?"

"You look like you're on the mend, but for a while there you were very ill. You slept off and on for four solid days, which was probably what your body needed in order to heal itself." She offered him a cup of water, helping him hold it as he took a few sips.

"That must have been some potent sleeping draught you slipped in my tea," he commented, watching as her cheeks and tips of her ears flared red.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry about that," she said earnestly. "I didn't want to do it, but would you have stayed here and let me care for you otherwise? One of the reasons you're recovering so quickly is that you're away from other sick people. You'd still be in a cot in the infirmary right now otherwise."

"I don't appreciate being tricked, Hawke," he began, watching as her face fell. "Yet I'm thankful you didn't decide to simply cosh me o'er the head instead." He laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips.

"Am I forgiven?"

He kissed her knuckles. "You know I can never hold anything against you, Elsa. Next time, try to persuade me to take to my bed using _other_ means." Her breath caught at the intense way he stared at her, and she leaned down so she could rest her forehead against his. He let go of her hand and threaded his fingers in her hair, gently tipping her face up. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his breath against her lips, but then his stomach decided to loudly growl and shatter the intimate moment.

Giggling, she turned her face into the crook of his neck. "Do you think you can handle something a bit more substantial than clear broth and water?"

"I think I could manage," he said, grinning.

She dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. "Then I'll be right back." She winked at him. "Don't go anywhere."

He smirked; he wasn't certain he could even lay back down without completely tiring himself out, let alone attempt to get out of bed. He called out to her, making her turn back around. "Thank you," he said, "for everything. I don't know what I did to deserve a treasure such as yourself."

Elsa's entire expression softened and she looked at him with such love in her eyes that he wished he could go over to her and kiss her the way that he'd always wanted to. "Just get better soon," she said, a flirty tone coloring her words. "Then you can express your gratitude any way you want."

His eyes darkened and he swallowed hard. "My heart, if that's the case, then you're about to witness the fastest recovery known to man."


	6. In Sickness and in Health 3

Title: In Sickness and in Health (3/3)  
>Rating: PG<br>Summary: They really hadn't expected a dragon in the Bone Pit. Otherwise they would have dressed for the occasion.  
>Note: Sebastian's Scottish-Gaelic is the product of searching around various sites at 3 AM. If anyone sees anything that needs to be fixed, please let me know.<p>

* * *

><p>Elsa Hawke rarely ever swore. Since childhood, her mother had ingrained into her that it was crass and unladylike to utter curses, that only uneducated people who couldn't properly express their feelings through their limited vocabulary used swear words.<p>

Obviously, her mother had never had a dragon fang sticking out of her leg. Elsa writhed on the ground, her teeth clenched as she howled out invectives that made Varric's eyebrows nearly touch his hairline.

"Okay, one, I'll give you ten points for creativity. I don't think that word was ever meant to be used that way." Varric knelt beside her and tried to assess the damage without touching anything. "And two, I'm not quite sure that phrase is physically possible."

"It is if you're flexible." she gasped and curled her fingers into claws when Varric accidentally touched the portion of tooth sticking out a few inches from her skin. "Maker's hairy _arse_, that _hurt!_"

Varric clucked his tongue and continued to watch the perimeter for any signs of extra dragonlings. "Watch it; Choir-Boy isn't going to like his sweetheart using the Maker's name in vain."

"I'll overlook it," Sebastian said curtly, looking through their packs for any healing potions. "We used every damned drink we brought with us?" He had to force himself to go slowly through their inventory when all he wanted to do was upend bags and frantically search for something to ease Elsa's pain. He sighed in defeat and held onto her hand to at least offer solace, wincing slightly when she squeezed hard enough to cause some serious discomfort. "How far are we from the city?"

"A day and a half's journey," Fenris estimated, looking at the angle of the sun in the sky. "We probably have a few hours of daylight left before we're forced to stop for the night." He picked up the pack Sebastian had just discarded and rooted through until he came up with several long rolls of bandages. "I can take this out, but it won't be pleasant."

Elsa took a shaky breath. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"Yes." Fenris wasn't in good shape either; his eyes were pinched in a pained expression and his entire right arm looked as if it had been dipped in bright red paint. "Someone is going to have to bandage this once I'm finished. I don't think I can do it at the same time."

"I'll do it," Sebastian said, taking the bandages from Fenris.

"This is going to bleed like crazy once that tooth gets taken out," Elsa hissed, propping up on her elbows. There was a sharp pain jabbing her ribs, probably where she had been slammed against the rock wall of the Bone Pit by the high dragon's massive tail.

Sebastian nodded. "I'll be ready." He was already bunching the bandages together to form a thick pad to staunch the bleeding.

Fenris put his left hand over the part of the tooth still visible. "Do you trust me?" he asked Elsa, who nodded. Without giving her any time to think, the lyrium tattoos over his body flared a bright blue and Fenris plunged his hand into the side of her leg, quickly pulling his fingers and the bloody tooth out. Elsa muffled a scream against her arm, her face going pale when Sebastian pressed down on her thigh, the bandages he had prepared already soaking through.

"Well, that went better than expected," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "At least nobody died."

"Dinnae even _joke_ like that," Sebastian growled, tying the bandage together. He held onto her hands and pulled her up to her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist to support her weight when she started to weave on her feet. "You _could_ have died."

She looped her arms around his neck for balance and gave him a reassuring hug, dismayed when she saw how her blood had smeared against the shiny whiteness of his armor. "But I didn't and while we weren't able to do anything for these poor people here, we saved the entire city against a dragon attack." She rested her head against his chest, adrenaline from the fight draining away and leaving her bone tired. "That's what's important."

"And we got some nifty loot in the process," Varric piped up, holding something bloody in his hand. "Think Sol could make something out of this fire gland? They're supposed to be pretty rare. And I found this in a chest nearby." He held out some sort of armor he had looped over his arm, the black leather buckles dragging on the ground. "I might be wrong, but I think they might fit you, Hawke."

"Better armor, where was _that_ ten minutes ago?" Elsa attempted to limp her way over to investigate, but then made an indignant sounding squawk when her injured leg buckled under her. "Oh, this is going to be _fun_," she said sarcastically, hanging onto Sebastian's arms for dear life.

"I have you," Sebastian murmured, tightening his arms around her.

"I know," she whispered back, giving him a tired smile, her fingers sifting through the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. "You always do."

"We might have some luck finding health potions if we check the miners' bodies," Fenris suggested, holding onto his arm with his free hand. He had wrapped a bandage around his bicep, but it was loosely knotted together.

"I hope so," Elsa agreed. The four of them slowly made their way up the piles of bones and rubble until they were back at the mine entrance.

"Stay here," Sebastian told her, helping her sit on top of a crate. He pointed at Fenris. "That goes for you as well."

"How does your arm feel?" Elsa asked Fenris. She reached over and fixed his bandage, wincing when he grunted in pain. She wasn't sure if it was the lyrium markings or bone, but she caught a flash of white between the fingers he held over the worst of the injury.

"I've had better," he told her, his voice clipped. "I've also had worse. How does your leg feel?"

"I've had better," she echoed, shifting her weight so she wasn't putting so much pressure on her leg. "Thank you for helping me."

He looked at her oddly, as if he were trying to figure out the right words. "You're one of the few people I can truly call a friend, Hawke. You stood beside me against Danarius and Hadriana; taking one dragon fang out of your leg is nothing in comparison to all the things that you've done for me over the years."

She leaned against him, their good shoulders touching. "Still, thank you."

"We managed to find one flask of potion," Sebastian announced, coming over to them. "Luckily, it's a rather potent one."

"Take it," Elsa said, pushing the flask into Fenris' hands. "You're hurt more than I am."

"Don't be ridiculous," Fenris countered. He saw the stubborn glint in her eye and sighed. "I'll only use half if you promise that you'll use the other half." He didn't wait for her answer, but he tipped his head back and drank half the flask in one swallow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he handed the bottle back to her. She drank the rest, instantly feeling better. The painful ache in her ribs subsided to a dull throb and she could feel many of the minor cuts and scrapes along her body close in on themselves.

"We're going to need to get out of here," Elsa said, looking sadly at the still-smoking bodies strewn around. She might not have spent a lot of time in the mines besides a few side trips to find deposits of ore or other crafting materials, but she _had_ gotten to know a handful of miners and their families on her visits into Lowtown. Someone was going to have to tell their widows what had happened. Knowing Hubert, Elsa would have to be the bearer of bad news. "Hubert has to know about what's happened." She stood up, but then quickly sat back down. Apparently, the half-portion of healing potion had cured her minor hurts, but the major injuries were still there. She let out a cry at the white-hot lance of pain that shot up all the way to her hip when she tried to put weight on her leg.

Sebastian really saw one solution. He unbuckled his quiver from his chest and put it around Elsa, taking care to buckle it tighter so that it wouldn't slip around. "Hold this for me as well," he said, slinging his bow over her head so that it rested against the quiver at her back.

"And what are you doing?"

"You can't walk, right? The only logical thing would be for me to carry you." He turned around and knelt as close to her as he could, presenting his back to her. "Can you make it from here?"

Elsa bit her lip and stood on her good leg, her hands going out to his shoulders for support. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I am." He turned his head and gave her a smirk. "Don't tell me you've forgotten how to ride on someone's back."

She wrapped her arms across his chest as he stood, his arms locking securely underneath both of her knees. Blood loss must have been making her woozy, because she stifled a giggle against the side of his neck. "The last time I did this, I was eight."

"Then you're long overdue, my lady." He took an unsteady step as he adjusted his balance, then started down the rocky mountain path behind Varric and Fenris.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?"

He rolled his eyes and let out a sarcastic snort. "My heart, I've lifted heavier Chantry tomes. I don't think a wee bit like yourself is going to overly tax me."

_Okay, blood loss is definitely starting to kick in._ "Is that your way of telling me that I'm scrawny, Vael?"

"Never. I think you're a comely, petite woman. I'd even go as far as describe you as delicate, but I fear you'd scratch my eyes out." The last was said in a teasing tone and Elsa could see the very edges of his smirk from her vantage point. "Trust me, Elsa. _Scrawny_ is the last thing that crosses my mind when I look at you."

She tightened her arms around his chest. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

He turned his head enough so he could nudge her cheek with his nose. "There's plenty more where that came from, but we have an audience."

Varric laughed and waved a hand at them. "No, no. Keep it up, Choir-Boy. I need filler dialogue for my new story."

* * *

><p>They finally stopped when it got too dark to see the path in front of them. Varric started a fire and called first watch, sitting a little bit away to survey their campsite with Bianca in his arms. Elsa offered to check Fenris' arm, but he reassured her that it was fine. The elf curled up on his good side on the opposite end of the fire, falling to sleep almost immediately.<p>

"This is going to need attention once we get back," Sebastian said, changing the bandage on Elsa's thigh. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that reddened streaks radiating out from the puncture mark weren't present, but the threat of permanent scarring and tissue damage still worried him. He tied the bandage, watching for any signs of discomfort. "I'm sorry, Hawke."

She shrugged and leaned back on her elbows. "It's a bit tight, but it's not uncomfortable."

He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry that you got hurt in the first place. If you hadn't been…"

She sat up and pressed a finger against his lips. "Stop right there," she told him. "If I hadn't distracted that dragon, you would have been in worse shape." Sebastian had fired the last of his arrows into the dragon's eye. The dragon, blinded and heavily injured, had lashed out in his direction. Elsa had seen the way that the massive clawed foot would have crushed Sebastian, so she screamed and yelled and threw a nearby bleached skull at its head, trying to lure the dragon's attention towards her. It had worked, but she hadn't counted on the tail hitting her as it turned around to face in her direction. She had heard something crack as she hit the wall, but at that time, all she had really cared about was killing the dragon before it could get another chance to breathe fire at them.

Sebastian took her hand in his and placed a kiss in her palm. "I thought I was the one that was supposed to protect you, not the other way around."

She smiled. "I don't see why we can't protect each other. You would have jumped in front of that dragon if our places had been reversed." Cupping her hand behind his neck, she tugged until he moved closer to her, his arms moving to bracket on either side of her body.

"I would face anything to see you safe," he vowed, his lips moving over her cheek and down her jaw until his teeth nipped at her earlobe. "I can't bear to think of a life without you in it."

"Sebastian…" Elsa sighed, twining her fingers in his hair and tilting her head to the side to encourage him to keep making wonderful, lazy patterns with his mouth and tongue against the side of her throat in such a manner that had her toes curling in her boots.

"_Is tusa gaol mo chridhe_," he breathed against her collarbone. Underneath the metallic odor of blood and leather, he could faintly catch the last traces of floral scented soap against her skin. He braced his weight on one arm and ran his left hand over her side, stopping when she let out a tiny pained whine.

"Stupid cracked ribs," she moaned, a rueful smirk on her lips. She eased herself down until she was flat on her back and staring up at the sky. "And one of these days, you're going to have to teach me your Starkhaven dialect. It sounds lovely, but for all I know, you could be telling me that I smell like dead dragon."

He laughed softly, mindful of waking their companion. "I would never dream of telling you such a thing," he said, lying down and lacing his fingers with hers. "Although, if you want me to be perfectly honest…"

She laughed, but then wrapped her free arm around her side. "Ow. Don't make me laugh." Rolling onto her good side, she snuggled up against him.

"You should get some rest," he said lifting his arm so she could move that much closer to him.

"You too. I'm not the one carting around a grumpy girl on my back." She hissed when a painful jolt went down her leg.

"If I could take your hurts and bear them myself, I would do it in an instant." Sebastian drew her closer until her head was resting on his shoulder.

"That's sweet of you, but I don't think I could carry you all the way back to Kirkwall. Your legs are a lot longer than mine; they'd drag on the ground." She splayed her hand over the armor covering his heart. "It's a good thing that we weren't expecting a dragon," she said offhandedly.

"Oh?"

Hubert had sent them to check out the mines after he hadn't heard from his workers in a while. Elsa had expected a minor strike or something she could have easily talked the miners out of, which was why she had decided against wearing anything that looked too intimidating. "If I had worn my heavier armor, carrying me would be a lot more difficult." Not to mention that her heavier armor had a lot of chainmail around her hips and legs. When the dragon had bitten her, it probably would have driven several rings into her skin in addition to leaving a tooth behind. She made a small noise of pain when she moved her leg to try to find a comfortable position.

"The heather burns would have started around this time," Sebastian said, suddenly changing the subject. If he couldn't take on Elsa's pain, the least he could do was try to distract her from it. "Farmers do controlled burns on the moors in order to kill off the old growth and promote new shoots for sheep to graze on. The older growth that escaped the burns turns into shelter for grouse. I remember that you could smell the heather for miles when it burned." He had some other memories associated with those fields – women whose faces and names he could not recall had fallen into the fragrant mess with him for stolen moments of passion. He looked down at Elsa, thinking that she would look beautiful with her dark hair dotted with the bright lavender blooms as she smiled up from underneath him. He made a silent promise that once events in Kirkwall had calmed down, he would show her everything his land had to offer.

_Their_ land, if she would have him. Nothing made him happier than the thought of spending the rest of his life with the woman he had come to fiercely love at his side. Sebastian continued to talk about Starkhaven, switching topics from the plants and land to its people. It wasn't long before the heat of the fire combined with the low, soothing tone of his voice lulled Elsa to sleep. Pressing a kiss against the crown of her hair, Sebastian quietly yawned and fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

><p>"Ah, home, sweet home," Varric sighed, brushing off invisible bits of dirt from the sleeve of his coat. "Blondie is waiting over at your place by now."<p>

Elsa frowned. "How does Anders know to look for us?"

"Oh, I sent word with one of my people once he hit the city limits. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a bathtub and a bottle of good brandy." With that, Varric waved his goodbyes and headed down to the Hanged Man.

"I'll be heading back home as well," Fenris said.

"It wouldn't hurt to have Anders look at your arm," Elsa prodded.

The elf sneered. "I'll not have him healing me with magic. I have a supply of potions I can use."

Elsa frowned, but didn't press the issue any further. It was an old argument; one she knew would never be truly over while Anders held his grudge over Fenris's support of the templars and Fenris held his grudge against Anders for being a mage. Their rivalry was the main reason she had asked Varric to accompany them to the Bone Pit in the first place instead of Anders, whose presence would have made the trip back into town a whole lot less painful. Elsa tightened her arms around Sebastian's shoulders as they watched Fenris head towards the estates close to the Chantry.

"He'll be all right," Sebastian assured her. He looked up at the stairs that awaited them. Traveling with Hawke on his back on level ground had been fine, but the steep steps looked like they might give them something of a challenge.

"I can walk from here," she said, seemingly reading his mind.

"Don't be daft. I can manage."

She huffed against his neck. "Stubborn man."

He grinned. "And you wouldn't have me any other way. Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

><p>As Varric had said, Anders was waiting for them in Elsa's entranceway. He fussed over Hawke's injuries and moved in a flurry of action, helping her off Sebastian's shoulders and walking her over to a chair in the front room so he could tend to her. The mage didn't even give Sebastian a second glance, which made him feel like a third wheel. Very quietly, he turned on his heel. By the time that Elsa had a chance to look over her shoulder for him, he was gone.<p>

* * *

><p>It was only after he was chin-deep in a hot bath that Sebastian realized he had left his bow and quiver with Hawke. He took his time, scrubbing dried blood out from underneath his fingernails, but knew that he'd have to go retrieve his weapons sooner or later. Drying off, he slicked his hair out of his face and dressed in a plain tunic and trousers. Leaving his armor on the stand in his otherwise sparsely decorated room – he, Elsa, Aveline, and Fenris had made a point to rid Kirkwall of criminal elements and the city guard helped to make sure that the streets remained safe to travel at night – he headed out of the Chantry and down towards Elsa's estate.<p>

"I was wondering when you'd show back up," Elsa said once she saw him standing in her sitting room doorway. He wasn't sure if it was just the light from the fireplace or if she was blushing, but she shyly ducked her head. "I mean, I was hoping that you would come back." She stood up from the couch without any difficulties and walked over to him, her gait as smooth and elegant as ever. Taking her offered hands, he allowed himself to be drawn into the room.

"Anders has…" he paused, knowing that Anders was a friend of hers, "unconventional bedside manners. I thought it best if I left the two of you alone so he could tend to you better." Sebastian wasn't blind; he saw the way that Anders stared after Elsa when he thought no one was watching. While he was secure in the knowledge that Elsa cared for him and him alone, Sebastian couldn't erase the longing glances Anders gave her from his memory.

"I wished you had stayed," she said quietly. She let go of his hands and fidgeted. "I wanted to thank you for everything that you did for me, I really appreciate it."

He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh yes, it was a great burden to have a beauty such as yourself close to me all day. I don't know how I withstood such torture."

Elsa rolled her eyes and they stood there, staring at the other for the longest time. "Anders did a great job," she finally said, breaking the tense silence between them. "My leg is as good as new, see?" She did a little twirl, the skirt of her dress flaring out around her knees.

If he had been less of a gentleman, he would have grabbed her then. He would have slid his hands up and over her sides and kissed her, relieved that her cracked ribs were mended. They would have ended up on the couch with her straddled over him, his hands easing the hem of her dress over her thighs so he could see for himself that she was whole and healthy. If he had been less of a gentleman, he would have…

"Sebastian?"

He blinked, images of what could be still floating in his mind. "Forgive me," he said, taking the safe route. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was."

She gave him a soft smile. Going over to the corner, she picked up his quiver and bow where they had been resting against the wall. "If you'd like, you can stay in one of the guest rooms." She looked at him hopefully, but watched as he shook his head.

"I don't want to impose." He took his belongings from her hands, his fingers brushing hers. "Thank you for the offer," he said, sliding the quiver over his head and setting the bow against the side of the couch for the time being.

"I'm going to let Hubert know what we found at the mines tomorrow," she started. "And then after, I'll be visiting the miners' families. They deserve to know what happened from someone…"

"Who actually gives a damn about their husbands, fathers and brothers?" She nodded. "Hubert is an ass," he said. Sebastian had never liked the man since the first time he had met him and it didn't take a genius to figure out what sort of _condolences_ he would have given the Fereldan widows.

She let out a sort of amused breath. Sebastian swore even less than she did; to hear him curse was strange. "Well, yes, he is."

"And you're far too nice to tell him to his face that he's a horrible little man."

"I prefer to call it being diplomatic instead of nice. I'm fully prepared to deck him if he says a single thing against those poor men."

He gathered her in his arms and rested his chin against the crown of her head. "Ah, there's my lass," he said fondly. "Of course I'll go with you. Informing survivors of their loved ones' death is never an easy task; I'll help in any way I can."

"Thank you." She splayed her arms over his back and pressed her cheek against his chest to better hear the comforting _thump, thump_ of his heart. "Last night," she said, changing the topic. "When you said…" she scrunched her nose in concentration. "Gool mol chreeyeh…"

He grinned against her hair. "Is tusa gaol mo chridhe?" he asked, surprised that she remembered. Her pronunciation was horrible, but he would help her improve once they got a quiet moment to themselves.

"Yes, that." She picked her head up from his chest and looked at him. "Obviously that doesn't mean _you smell like dead dragon,_ and it's probably going to be like pulling teeth to get you to translate, but did you mean it?"

He cupped her face in his hands and bent his head. His eyes flickered over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks and closed eyes. _You are the love of my heart,_ he had told her. "Every last word," he swore, his breath ghosting across her lips. "Every last word."


	7. Upsetting the Apple Cart

Title: Upsetting the Apple Cart  
>Rating: PG for kissin'<br>Pairing: Elsa/Sebastian  
>Summary: Sometimes it's a good thing to change the status quo.<br>Note: I was sad at the lack of Sebastian wearing Hawke's favor, so I gave him one. Just for reference, he wears it on his drawing arm so it's right up at eye level when he uses his bow.

* * *

><p>Elsa groaned and shuffled the stack of mail in her lap.<p>

"What's the matter, Hawke?" Sebastian asked, taking his eyes off the target in front of him to give Elsa his full attention. They had been spending more and more time together to the point where if he wasn't engaged in any duties concerning the Chantry or out in the field helping Hawke with some quest or another, he could easily be found in her Hightown estate. She had designated one of the small, private gardens on the side of her home as a practice ring and had given all of her friends an open invitation to use it, but as far as Sebastian knew, he was the only one to take her up on her offer.

"The presence of the Champion of Kirkwall has respectfully been requested, _again_" she explained, waving a heavy paper invitation. "I've politely declined the past four invitations from this same person; if I don't go, it'll be seen as some sort of social snub." She read over the date again, thinking that she probably should have opened up her mail several weeks ago instead of letting it pile up on her desk while she went out adventuring. As it was, the party was tomorrow night, meaning she only had an afternoon to either accept or decline.

He leaned his bow against the garden wall. "Well, we can't have that now, can we?" He sat beside her, the side of his leg brushing hers. "May I?" He took the invitation from her hands and read it over. "Why haven't you gone to any of Serah Grissom's parties before?"

She blew her hair out of her face. "Because they're nothing but lavish excuses to throw money around," she said. "Everything seems so…_excessive._"

"It's true, but they do serve a greater purpose. Think of the merchants who benefit from these parties, the paid servants and others who get hired temporarily to help prepare, serve, and clean up after. Grissom might be throwing money around, but at least a percentage goes into the pockets of the needy."

"I never thought of it that way," she mused. "Still…"

"Don't tell me that you can't dance. Is that why you dislike going to parties?" He bumped her shoulder with his and grinned. "Or is it the fact that you'll have to wear a dress?" In all the years that he'd known her, he'd seen Elsa in a grand total of one casual dress that she wore around her house. It would be interesting to see her decked out in finery.

"No, that's not it. Mother taught all three of us how to dance when we were little." She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "It's the bowing and scraping that everyone does when I attend parties like these. None of these people would have given me a second glance years ago, but kill one Arishok and suddenly people forget that I began my life here as a penniless Fereldan refugee."

He ran is fingers through her hair. "You give yourself too little credit," he murmured. "You're an amazing woman, Elsa. Even if someone else would have become Champion, you still would have made your mark on Kirkwall one way or another."

She didn't answer him, but she did tilt her head up to look at him with an expression that made his chest ache with how much and how deeply he loved her. He cupped the side of her face with his hand and she turned her head to place a kiss on his palm. "I'll go on one condition."

He arched an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"The invitation states that I can bring a guest. Are you terribly busy tomorrow night?"

He leaned over and brushed his lips over her forehead. "Oh, I think I can spare an evening for you."

* * *

><p>"Will you stop fidgeting?" Isabela complained, waving a brush in the air. "If you don't sit still, I'm going to mess up and you'll have a smudgy face."<p>

"Sorry, sorry," Elsa sighed, willing herself to stay in one spot.

"I can't believe you're letting _her_ put makeup on you," Aveline commented from her seat on the edge of Elsa's bed.

"I don't have any talent for this sort of thing," Elsa replied. "And besides, Isabela has experience."

"With what? Looking like a tart on the prowl?"

Isabela rolled her eyes, dipping the brush in a pot of color and carefully sweeping it onto Elsa's eyelids. "I'm ignoring that remark, Big Girl," she said, putting the brush aside to pick up a reed thin pigment stick. She held it against the flame from a nearby candle until it lit before quickly blowing it out and cooling the tip with her fingers. "I'll have you know that I've had to disguise myself in several of the heists that I've done. I was a noblewoman in Antiva for three months for a job once; I haven't forgotten how to dress for the part." She used the stick to trace a mark close to Elsa's top eyelashes, smudging the straight black line with the tip of her ring finger.

"This is so silly," Elsa said, smoothing the velvet of her gown between her fingers. "This is just another party; I have no reason to be nervous."

Isabela smirked, exchanging the pigment stick for another brush loaded with a rose-colored lip stain. "That's because your very own Prince Charming never went to one of these parties before." Her smirk grew wider when Elsa blushed. "Keep that up and you'll do a good enough job of keeping your cheeks pink without any powder."

"He has been spending a lot of time with you," Aveline agreed, standing up and going over to Elsa's vanity to sift through the few pieces of jewelry scattered on the tabletop. "And he _has _decided to step away from his vows to the Chantry to reclaim his lands."

"And your point is?"

Isabela leaned back and admired her handiwork. "Her point is that you're gorgeous and he's not too hard on the eyes either. What's keeping the two of you from ripping off all your clothes and going at it like two nugs in heat?"

Elsa felt the tips of her ears redden. "We're not like that. I…we…"

The pirate put her hands on her hips. "Has he even kissed you?"

"Well, no, but…"

"I _knew_ it," Aveline said, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's stringing you along."

"No! He just wants to wait until the timing is right. He's being the perfect gentleman." Elsa thinned her lips and reached for a red ribbon. "He cares for me and I care for him. We don't have to have sex in order to let the other know how we feel."

Aveline's eyes softened. "I know that, I really do. It's just that we've been together through so much that I see you as something of a little sister. I don't want you to get hurt." She took the ribbon from Hawke's hands and looped the long ends around Elsa's throat, creating a choker that stood out from her skin in a striking manner. "That being said, if your arrangement makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Elsa turned to look in the mirror and had to touch her cheeks with the tips of her fingers to make certain that the person staring back was really her. Isabela had outdone herself. Somehow, she had made Elsa's face look delicate and ethereal using the same powders that made Elsa feel clownish whenever she tried to apply them herself.

Isabela picked up a bottle of perfumed oil from Elsa's vanity and sniffed at the stopper. "Dab that behind your ears and on your wrists," she said, her expression oddly closed off. "And while I agree with a little of what our dear Guard-Captain says, there's something to be said for upsetting the apple cart." She sighed and had a faraway look in her eye. "Take it from me, waiting for the timing to be just right only means that you have a greater chance of missing your opportunity when it finally comes around."

She looked so sad that Elsa had to reach out and squeeze her hand. "Isabela…"

Then Isabela shook her head and her usual saucy grin was back in place. "Put a few drops of that stuff down your cleavage too, Kitten," she advised, clearing her throat and changing the subject. "Your prince won't know what hit him."

* * *

><p>Sebastian ran his finger underneath the collar of his doublet, wondering for the umpteenth time if he was overdressed. Bodhan had assured him that he looked well when he had greeted him at the door, but it had been far too long since he had worn anything formal besides robes from the Chantry. Whenever they encountered enemies, either Sebastian gave all the money he found to Hawke or what little that he did keep for himself immediately found its way into the Chantry's donation boxes. As a result, he had nothing that was appropriate for rubbing elbows with high society and no money to purchase anything. Luckily, Varric agreed to loan him several sovereigns to find something and his luck continued to hold when he found a simple looking black outfit on the racks in Jean Luc's shop. The doublet's sleeves had slashing to show the bright white shirt underneath; it was understated without looking plain, elegant without being ostentatious, or at least that was what Jean Luc had said as he took Sebastian's money. He had to admit, the cut of the suit fit well and he noticed that he had received several long stares from various women on the trip from the Chantry to Hawke's estate.<p>

He stood there in the main room of Elsa's home, feeling anxious and like a young boy waiting for his first dance when her bedroom door opened. His eyes instantly snapped up, but his shoulders sagged when he saw it was just Aveline and Isabela.

"You look nice, Vael," Aveline told him, looking him up and down with a critical eye. "Dance with her at least twice."

"And make sure to muss her hair a bit," Isabela added with a wink. The pirate sashayed towards the foyer, grabbing Aveline's arm on the way out to hurry the other woman along.

"Odd," Sebastian muttered, shaking his head.

"I hope I didn't keep you very long," Elsa said, drawing his attention back to the top of the staircase.

"Andraste's grace," he breathed, staring at the vision making her way down the stairs. Even in blood-spattered armor, Elsa Hawke was a lovely woman, but seeing her in a floor-length gown took his breath away. The cut of her dress was simple yet it suited her and the dark burgundy color complimented her fair skin. She had put her hair up in a loose chignon behind her head, curls of hair gently framing her face.

"Well?" she asked once she got to him. "How do I look?" She slowly turned so he could get a look at her from all angles. From up close, he could see that the neckline dipped just enough to highlight a hint of cleavage and the bodice laced around her sides, emphasizing the curve of her waist. "Since this was such short notice, I picked one of Mother's old dresses that Grandmother had kept in storage all these years. I'm surprised that it fit, but I wonder how many people will notice the outdated style…"

He stopped her by picking up one of her hands and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. The floral heather scent he loved on her was strongest at her pulse point, making him delightfully lightheaded. "Everyone will be too busy noticing how stunning you are to pay any attention to anything else," he told her, his hands itching to run across every inch of exposed skin, his eyes catching a small cluster of freckles dotting the tops of her shoulders he hadn't been aware she possessed.

Elsa reached out and smoothed a few fingers over the front of his doublet. "You look very handsome; I'm going to have my hands full shooing noblemen's daughters away from you, aren't I?"

"I don't think that will be an issue," he said with a playful smirk. "The only woman I'm interested in is you." He held out his arm to her. "Shall we?"

* * *

><p>Isabela pulled Aveline back behind the corner of the house. Honestly, the woman had <em>no clue<em> about how to properly sneak up on someone. The only thing that kept the two of them from being discovered was the fact that Hawke and Sebastian had eyes only for the other as they walked the streets of Hightown.

"What say you to a tiny wager?" Isabela asked once their two targets rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

Aveline looked at her hesitantly. "What sort of wager?"

"Oh, nothing big. I'll bet you ten silvers that he kisses her before the night is out."

"Could you be any more childish?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Look, she's my friend too. I want to see her happy and she's happiest around his Royal Stick-in-the-Mud for some strange reason." She had to admit, she did find his eyes to be pretty and he could probably bring a woman to her knees with the power of his voice alone, yet it was his sense of _this is right and that is wrong_ that struck a sour note for her.

If she wanted pretty eyes and a killer voice without the goody-two-shoes act, all she had to do was walk into Hightown and visit Fenris. They'd had a handful of encounters over the years and he had made it absolutely clear that he was interested in continuing their situation indefinitely. He didn't demand anything from her - he wasn't clingy or sickeningly romantic and he made her see stars with that little trick he had with his tongue. A girl couldn't ask for a better arrangement if she tried.

"He's a good man," Aveline said, breaking Isabela out of her thoughts. "And a decent one. If he hasn't kissed her yet, what makes you think that he'll kiss her tonight?"

"You turned away before you saw his face as she came down the stairs. The man was looking at Hawke like someone had just given him the papers to the finest ship in the harbor. I'm not saying that he's going to pull her aside and take her in some dark alleyway…." She paused at that mental image. While she hadn't written any of her "friend fiction" with him in it, now she entertained the possibility of starting a few pieces. "I'm saying that before he leaves, he's going to plant one on her. After he does it for the first time, he seems like the sort of fellow to express his feelings in public later on."

"I still say he's going to kiss her on the cheek and call it an evening."

"And I still say that you're too chicken to place a bet with me."

Aveline sighed. "Ten silvers, you said?" She weighed the money pouch she kept at her hip. "I could always use a little extra coin. Maybe I'll even buy you a drink when I win."

Isabela rubbed her hands together. "Then it's settled. Come on; let's see if Varric will hold our money for us." If anything, she could probably get him to up the stakes and net her even more money. She gave one last look to the brightly lit mansion Hawke and Sebastian had been headed to. _Good luck Hawke,_ she thought, crossing her fingers for her friend. _Don't let me down._

* * *

><p>The invitation said that the party started at dusk, but it seemed as if the majority of Serah Grissom's guests believed in the Kirkwall tradition of arriving early in order to see who else had been invited. By the time that Elsa and Sebastian stood in front of a tall, thin man dressed in black and white livery, they could tell that the party was already in full swing.<p>

"Names?" the man said without looking up from the guest list, his voice carrying a pretentious nasal pitch.

"Messere Elsa Hawke and a guest," Sebastian provided, watching as the man started to skim the paper in his hands and then stopped when he finally recognized Elsa's name. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile when the man's self-important sneer fell off his face.

"The Champion!' he breathed. "Please, forgive the wait!"

"Oh, it wasn't any trouble," Elsa said, trying to reassure the man.

"No, no, you shall be introduced without any delay! And the name of your guest, Messere?"

Elsa looked up at Sebastian. "Sebastian Vael, _Prince_ of Starkhaven."

"You did that on purpose," Sebastian whispered to her as they were ushered inside. He could already hear the people behind them murmuring at Elsa's declaration.

She leaned against him. "If I have to be the Champion of Kirkwall for an evening, then I'll not have you be a mere _guest_. You're far more important to me than that."

* * *

><p>While Elsa normally moaned and complained about having to act the part of a noble, Sebastian couldn't help but notice that she did so with more charm and grace than those around her. Perhaps he was biased, but he admired the way she spoke to everyone that came up to them and the way she moved through the crowds of people for hours on end. Dinner had been an exercise in manners – he had forgotten about the tiny intrigues and miniature dramas that unfolded amongst a group of strangers sitting next to one another through several courses of dishes. By the time that the dessert plates had been whisked away – and dessert had consisted of a lavishly dense yet slightly flavorless chocolate concoction covered with little bits of edible gold leaf, something that Elsa had discretely explained to him that a bakery in Lowtown sold a simpler and much tastier version of for two bits a slice – he had found out far more boring pieces of information about his table partners than he would have ever liked to know.<p>

After dinner, they wandered around the perimeter of the main room to speak with their host who had taken them both by the arms and led them around to talk with other important nobles. Elsa kept a serene smile on her face, but Sebastian caught the tense line of her shoulders that experience told him signaled that she was at the end of her patience.

"You'll have to excuse us," Sebastian said, his hand warm on the small of Elsa's back. "But the dance floor seems to be calling our names."

The older man nodded sagely. "Ah, to be young again. I cut a rather dashing figure on the dance floor in my youth as well." He clapped Sebastian on the shoulder with more familiarity than he deserved. "If I were you, I'd keep this lovely creature out there all night for everyone to see!"

"Pompous, self-important man," Elsa muttered under her breath, turning in Sebastian's arms as he led her through a simple waltz the full orchestra was playing. "The only reason he invited me tonight was to show me off to the others and flaunt his status. Oh look, the Champion is the guest of honor! Messere Grissom must be _so _important to have caught her attention!" She said the last bit in a high-pitched whisper, her tone imitating one woman who had said the exact same thing to her not five minutes before.

"You didn't suspect that at first?" he asked, moving with the music. It might have been a long time since he had last danced, but it seemed as if his body still knew the steps perfectly.

"Well, yes, but its one thing to know it and a completely different thing to actually experience it firsthand." They were speaking in a conversational tone and Elsa's face was the same calm mask it had been all evening, but he looked into her eyes and saw how upset she was. "I feel like a prize mare, here for everyone to gawk at."

The orchestra began playing a slower tune and Sebastian gathered her closer. "There is a saying in Starkhaven that goes _a friend's eye is a good looking-glass._ Pay no heed to these people. They don't know you like your friends know you." His hand slipped lower on her waist. "They don't see you how I see you."

She looked up at him. "And how do you see me?"

"I see a gracious, giving, kind soul who would rather do without than to see others suffer. I see a person who knows how to use her clever mind and witty tongue to make the best out of a bad situation. I see someone who is beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside, who inspires loyalty and devotion in those fortunate enough to know her." He folded their joined hands over his heart. "I see a woman who holds my heart in her hands and I would trust it with no other."

Her breath caught in her throat at the way he looked down at her. "I think it's time that we left," she said quietly, taking his hand in hers as they walked off the dance floor. It was easy for the two rogues to slip unnoticed out the door and into the night, both of them sticking to the shadows until they left the vicinity of their host's grounds.

"Next time, I'll _impolitely_ decline any more invitations so that they'll quit sending them and we'll spend the evening in the Hanged Man playing cards," she said once they arrived at her front door.

"At least the company will be better, even if the ale isn't," he agreed. They stood awkwardly in the entranceway; while it was true that they had spent more time together alone, it had always felt informal and relaxed. This was the first time that Elsa had formally invited him anywhere, making him wonder if she felt the same butterflies flutter around in her stomach as he did.

She let out a nervous sounding laugh. "I might not have gone on many dates in Lothering, but I think that we're at the part of the evening where the customary goodnight kiss would be given."

Ah. So she _was_ thinking on the same wavelengths as he was. "It would seem as if we are," he teased, stepping closer to her. Before he could kiss her, she rocked up on her tiptoes and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

"I know that what we have between us is special," she started, her hands on his arms, "and I know that you said that you didn't want to start anything more serious until you retook your lands, but…."

He cut off her rambling by framing her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers. He had tried to hold out until he felt he was worthy of a woman such as Elsa, he really had. At that first touch of her lips, all the years spent denying themselves this pleasure suddenly seemed silly. "If I'm to give you a kiss, I'm going to give you a proper one," he murmured, his mouth brushing against hers.

"Oh. Good." Her fingers curled into the folds of his sleeves and she practically melted at finally, _finally_ being able to kiss him the way she had wanted to. He was better than her imagination, taking small sips at the corners of her mouth, his teeth gently nibbling at her bottom lip until she trembled in his arms. His hands threaded into her hair and she heard the _plink_ of numerous hairpins hitting the stone pavement at their feet, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that he never stopped kissing her.

"Inside, now," he mumbled, his hand blindly searching for the doorknob behind Elsa. Between the two of them, they fumbled the door open and stepped inside, never once breaking contact with the others' lips. Once the door clicked shut, Sebastian turned and pressed Elsa against the wood, his mouth devouring hers with a hunger he had never felt before. Years of longing bubbled to the surface and it seemed as if he couldn't get enough of her fast enough. She moaned and arched in his hands as he moved his palms over her bodice, his hands momentarily cupping her breasts before raking down and running over her backside to bring her flush against his hips. His tongue tangled with hers before he moved down the column of her throat, his fingers untying the velvet ribbon there and bunching it up in his fist.

Elsa sucked in a deep breath of air, but let it out in a shaky sigh, her fingers sliding into Sebastian's hair when he ran his nose against the swell of her breast. "You smell fantastic," he groaned, his mouth moving to explore the patch of freckles on her shoulder he had noticed earlier.

"Score one for Isabela," she said breathlessly, holding him close to her. She shivered at the way that desire had thickened his accent, sending delightful chills down her spine. "She said that you wouldn't know what hit you."

He grinned against her shoulder. "Perfume or no, I'd still find you irresistible." He kissed her again. _This_ is what he missed about being with a woman, these initial moments where he found out what made her sigh and what made her shiver against him. The fact that he was discovering this about Elsa made it all the more profound. "I should go," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. She was breathing as hard as he was, which only made him aware of the way her breasts strained against her bodice and pressed against his chest.

"And pray?" she teased, reminding him of the reaction he had when she had first flirted with her.

"I think I'm past that stage," he replied, capturing her mouth with his again. "I'm diving headlong into the nearest body of cold water the first chance I get."

Elsa put her head on his shoulder. "Does this change anything?" she asked, her arms wrapping around his waist.

"Yes and no," he told her, kissing her hair. "I want us to continue the way that we were, but with a few minor changes. I don't think I can see you and not do this now that I know how you taste." He tipped her face up and gently kissed her. "And Maker, how I want to see you."

She traced his jaw with her fingers. "Are you asking me out for an evening, Sebastian Vael?"

"No, I'm asking you for _several_ evenings. Are you terribly busy tomorrow night?"

Elsa smirked, thinking about how he had turned her words around on her. "Oh, I think I can manage to spare some time for you."

* * *

><p>Elsa grinned as she read over the thin piece of paper that had arrived for her the next morning. Running her hand over her hair, she stepped through the doorway the invitation had specified. The party must have already been going on for hours, because the band was in the middle of switching sets.<p>

"Hawke!" Corff yelled his greeting from behind the bar. "They're waiting for you upstairs." He slid a mug of wine towards her, waving off any attempts to pay him. "There's a tab started for you already."

Elsa's eyebrows rose. Varric must be in a good mood if he paid for the _good_ alcohol. She thanked Corff and went up the stairs where she could hear Isabela crow triumphantly as she won another hand of Wicked Grace. She poked her head into the room, expecting all of their companions to be there, but there was one that threw her for a loop.

Sebastian turned in his chair and smiled at her. He was wearing a plain set of clothing instead of his usual armor and her eyes went straight to his right side where he had wrapped the length of red velvet around his arm. "I was wondering where that went to," she said, setting her cup on the table as he rose.

"Deal us both in," Sebastian said to Isabela, who cackled and elbowed Aveline, who in turn let out a curse when Sebastian pulled Elsa close and casually kissed her right in front of everyone before sitting back down, his hand on Elsa's knee when she scooted her chair as close to his as possible. "And no pulling the best cards out of the bottom of the deck. I'm onto you."

Varric pulled out a small sack of coin. "You know, I should give this to Rivaini since she won it fair and square, but I think you deserve it more, Choir-Boy." He ignored Isabela's shout of t_hat's not fair!_ and tossed the bag at Sebastian, who caught it one-handed.

"Thanks, I could use the money to pay for the tab I started at the bar." He reached over and took a drink out of Elsa's cup, grimacing as he swallowed. "_This_ is their best bottle? I probably could have ordered furniture polish and had a better drink."

"Do you know how to play?" Elsa asked, looking her cards over. Isabela was determined to win that money for whatever bet she had just won from them one way or another; she had dealt Elsa a downright _horrible_ hand.

"My heart, I might have given up worldly vices for a time, but there are some things a man never forgets how to do." The way he stared at her made her think that he wasn't completely talking about card games alone. Her heart flipped and she blushed, discarding two of her cards for fresh ones off the top of the deck.

"We'll have to see about that, won't we?" she asked, her free hand playing with the ends of the ribbon at Sebastian's forearm.

He winked at her, his thumb making distracting circles over her kneecap. "Oh, aye. That we will."


	8. The Way to a Man's Heart

Title: The Way to a Man's Heart  
>Rating: G<br>Pairing: Hawke/Sebastian  
>Summary: Nothing says 'I love you' more than baking a cake for someone.<p>

* * *

><p>He found her in the kitchen, her hair pinned up in a messy bun and her arms dusted white with flour all the way to her elbows. "Something smells incredible," he said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. "As does whatever you're cooking."<p>

She turned to give him a quick peck on the lips as a greeting. "You're just in time," she said, breaking out of his embrace to gather two plates and a large knife. "I've been playing with a recipe and I think I finally got it right this go-around."

Sebastian took the plates and utensils from her hands and sat down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen to watch Elsa bustle about, seemingly one with her environment. He loved watching her cook, her hands busy mixing or chopping while she hummed under her breath, her entire body at ease. She rarely used a written recipe, or if she did, she would tweak it and experiment until it became her own. He caught sight of a small recipe card on the table. Picking it up, he noticed that she had crossed out certain ingredients and written in her own substitutions several times with notations of _too sweet_ or _needs more flour – batter too loose_ in the margins. "What concoction am I to taste test today?" he wondered. Recently he would find her in her kitchen, coincidentally around the same time she knew he always came to her house to visit. As a result, he'd stayed for many a well-cooked meal.

"A fruit and honey cake," she replied, setting down a dense looking cake in front of him. She took the knife and cut out two wedges, serving them on the plates he had set out for them. "I've been making small batches to get the flavor right. They all tasted fine, but something just didn't quite click. The orphanage has gotten my previous experiments."

He smiled. "I'm certain the children were pleased with the unexpected treats." Elsa spent a lot of her time in the orphanage located on the Chantry grounds and many of the children there had taken a shine to her. She took great pains to make sure that they saw her as Miss Elsa instead of the Champion of Kirkwall and she was either roughhousing with the older children or sitting under the shade of a tree and reading to a group of younger ones. Sebastian often watched her, thinking about how she might treat her own children. In his mind's eye, he pictured her with at least two: a boy with dark auburn hair and Elsa's smile and a girl with long black curls and the Vael eyes.

"Probably not the first batch," Elsa laughed, drizzling a bit of honey on the top of Sebastian's slice. "Something didn't turn out right and there wound up being more fruit than cake."

He cut through the cake with the side of his fork. "I'm going to run to fat if you keep on making dishes like this," he teased.

She grinned. "Then we'll just have to find a way to work off the excess pounds. Well?" Elsa asked, leaning towards him with her elbows on the table. "What do you think?"

He swallowed and closed his eyes. "It's good." He took another bite. "It's very good." He wanted to tell her that she had somehow managed to capture the tastes from his childhood perfectly, but he didn't know how to properly word it. "Where did you find the recipe?"

"Her Grace gave it to me the other day." She tilted her head. "We were talking about you and she told me what a sweet tooth you had. This is supposed to be a traditional dessert from Starkhaven; I thought you might appreciate it."

"I think that you could give some of the bakeries a run for their money." Sebastian gave her a wry smirk. "Should I be concerned that you and the Grand Cleric have been gossiping about me?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "Probably, but I just wanted to find something that I could surprise you with."

"And that's only one of the many reasons why I love you," he said fondly, reaching out to cup the back of her neck in his hand and draw her towards him for a kiss.

She froze halfway. "What did you just say?" she whispered, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I said that I love you." He grunted when she flung herself into his arms, her knees hitting his thigh.

"You've never said that to me before," she told him, draping her arms around his shoulders.

He frowned. "I haven't?" Thinking for a while, he realized that she was right. He might have called her _my heart_ or _love_ as terms of endearments, but he couldn't recall a single time that he had actually told her point blank how he felt. He moved back so he could look at her. "Then that's a mistake I'll be sure to set right. Elsa Hawke, I love you. I've loved you for years."

Elsa closed the distance between them. "I love you too," she murmured, smiling against his mouth. He tasted of honey and spices from the cake and she let out a little surprised squeak when he tugged her onto his lap.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," he said, nudging her nose with his.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. "Probably as happy as it makes me to have you say the same."

He framed her face with his hands and placed little kisses at the corners of her mouth. "Then I'll be certain to tell you as often as I possibly can from now on."


	9. Put the Lime in the Coconut

Title: Put the Lime in the Coconut  
>Rating: PG-13<br>Pairing: Hawke/Sebastian  
>Summary: After a night of partying, Elsa and Sebastian wake up to more than just a simple hangover.<br>Note: this turned out way schmoopier than I had originally thought it would be. Just think of it as your daily dose of fluff.

* * *

><p>The pounding headache that radiated out from the crown of Elsa's head and out over her right eye was what woke her up. Very tentatively, she cracked open an eyelid. <em>Ah, good,<em> she thought, glancing around her bedroom. _I made it home._ She didn't remember much about the night before, just hazy recollections about a party at the Hanged Man that had eventually migrated down to the docks. Since killing Castillion, Isabela laid claim to his ship and the entire crew. She had given all the men a choice in either staying on board or finding work elsewhere, and surprisingly many wanted to stick around. Elsa had never seen Isabela in full-Captain mode before, and while her friend was content to let Elsa take the lead on land, there was no question as to who was boss on Isabela's new ship. To mark Isabela's rise back as an actual Captain, Varric had thrown an impromptu celebratory party in their friend's honor. Elsa had a moderately high tolerance to alcohol, but the last thing she could clearly remember was taking a new glass of rum from Norah and smiling up at Sebastian while the room spun pleasantly around her.

Daring to open her eyes a little more, she noticed by the trail on the floor that she had shed her clothes before going to bed. She frowned; surely she hadn't been wearing _that_ many clothes the night before. Raising her right hand to push her tangled hair out of her face, she came up short when she realized that there was a bright red ribbon tied around her wrist. The velvet was soft against her skin, but she could have sworn it belonged to Sebastian. She lifted her hand higher, figuring out that something was weighing down the other end of the ribbon hidden in the sheets.

A muffled groan from the pile of bedclothes behind her had Elsa spinning around, her left hand bunching the sheets around her to cover her nudity. Cautiously, she pulled the blankets down over the lump of pillows, uncovering a head of auburn hair.

"I've died," Sebastian moaned, his eyes tightly shut while trying to burrow back underneath the covers. "You cannae beat a dead man, Brother, so just go and tell Da that ye've found my corpse."

"Sebastian, wake up." She sat up straighter and wondered if she could manage to make a grab for the pair of undergarments draped haphazardly over the footboard and put them on before he fully woke up. Deciding against it, she sat there and pulled the sheets tighter around her body, her face feeling as if it was about to burst into flame.

"Elsa?" He scrubbed at his face, pausing when he saw the ribbon tied around his left hand. "What's this?" He winced as he looked around the room, noticing that it seemed as if most of his clothes were in a tangle on the floor. A quick look underneath the sheets had him letting out a slight yelp as he shot up straight in bed, his hands clutching the sheets around his waist.

"What do you remember about last night?" they asked at the same time, looking at one another. Sebastian noticed that there were red marks going across Elsa's collarbone and disappearing underneath the sheets she had bunched at her chest that looked suspiciously like stubble burn.

"We didn't…" He gestured towards her, eyeing the purpling bruise along the side of her neck. He could see the beginnings of another similarly shaped mark on the upper swell of her breast that the sheet didn't quite cover.

She swallowed hard. "I don't think so," she answered, staring wide-eyed at him. His hair was sticking up in all directions, looking like someone had run their fingers through it repeatedly. Another memory bubbled to the surface: the both of them laughing as she pulled him through the streets of Hightown, Sebastian grabbing at her hips as she pushed him up against the wall of some house. She had sifted her hands through his hair to bring him down to her level, smiling as they kissed… "Do you remember anything about this?" She raised her arm and pointed at the ribbon binding their hands together.

He tried to concentrate as he untied the end from Elsa's wrist. Slowly, an image of them standing on board Isabela's ship came into focus. Isabela was wrapping the ribbon around their hands and saying something. Something about promising to love, honor, and ravish? "Oh, Maker," he breathed, leaning against the headboard.

"What is it?"

He looked at her. "I think we were married last night."

"That's not possible," Elsa started. "We…" she paused. "We were." Now that she thought about it, she could clearly remember a moment during the evening when she had looked up at him and said _I do._ Scrambling under the covers, she pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped herself in it, leaving Sebastian the sheets. "We have to find Isabela and get some answers." She snatched her smallclothes off the footboard and balled them up in her fist.

He probably should have informed her that the comforter she was holding against her as she dressed wasn't doing as good of a job covering her as she had hoped it would, but even though he was suffering through one of the worst hangovers in his life, Sebastian couldn't help but admire her. Being able to see glimpses of pale, smooth skin and the outer curve of a breast made the headache worth it, even if it did make his hands itch to reach out and touch. "Well?" she asked, sitting on the bed to put on her boots. "Aren't you coming?"

He smirked. "Yes, but I didn't think you'd want me parading around in the altogether. My pants aren't in easy reach, Love." Had his reflexes been any better, he might have avoided getting hit in the head by the pants Elsa threw at him.

* * *

><p>"The two of you look like something the cat drug in," Isabela commented from her seat at the bar. She looked completely composed and not a hair out of place, which was a feat considering that Elsa knew Isabela had consumed twice as much alcohol than her and Sebastian combined.<p>

"Tell us the meaning of this," Sebastian demanded, leaning against the wood and holding up his right arm where he had wrapped the ribbon around his forearm like usual. "What did we do last night?"

"Well," Isabela drawled, "the both of you drank, and drank, and drank some more…Oh! And then you danced! I have to say, your Highness, you have some _impressive_ moves. _Completely_ didn't see that coming."

"Isabela," Elsa said, trying to get her friend to focus. "We need you to remember just what happened when we were on your ship. Did you happen to marry us?"

She sat back. "Oh, is that all that you're worried about? And here I thought you were wondering if you stripped naked and ran through Hightown or something."

Sebastian sputtered. "Is that _all_? Getting married and not having any memory of it is a _big_ deal!"

"You know what? You're awfully cranky for a newlywed." She glanced at Elsa. "Didn't you properly polish his rudder? I can offer a few pointers if you'd like."

Elsa sat down on one of the stools and cradled her sore head between her hands. "That won't be necessary, thank you," she grumbled. "Just…is the marriage legally binding?"

"Oh, it most certainly is. A ship captain has just as much legal clout as any religious figure over things like this." Isabela leaned her elbows against the bar and took a sip of her drink. The real reason she was faring as well as she was instead of in the same boat as her friends was that she had been drinking a pint of water for every other mug of alcohol. She tended to favor drinks that were clear in color so no one was the wiser, which made playing cards with a bunch of drunks all the more profitable. She didn't even bother hiding her pleased smirk at the way both of them looked at the other. "If it makes you feel any better, I took your conditions into consideration."

"And what would that mean?" Sebastian growled.

"Well," she drawled. "Considering that your response to the whole 'do you promise to love, honor and cherish, not to mention ravish your bride on a nightly and sometimes during the afternoon basis' spiel was _och, aye_ while weaving on your feet, I thought it would be best to perform one of the less binding marriage ceremonies."

"Why perform one at all?"

She shrugged. "Because you _asked_ me to, Hawke. Both of you did. And it's just a handfasting, so if you're not happy, you just have to wait out the statute of limitations on this one." She eyed them. "You _did_ consummate the marriage, didn't you?"

"I don't think so." Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. There were blurry flashes of Sebastian's hands on her, but then…nothing.

Isabela made a sympathetic sound and patted Elsa's hand. "Oh, poor Kitten. I know how it goes, get a few drinks into a fellow and his sails only fly at half-mast, if that much. Don't worry; there'll be plenty of time between now and when this thing expires to have your way with him." She pulled two small glass vials from a pouch on her belt. "Drink this and you should feel better. It's an old Riviani cure – it smells like moldy socks and tastes even worse, but it'll put you to rights in no time. Oh, and it's better to take it with some food in your stomach, or else you'll be revisiting everything you drank the night before. _Trust_ me on that one, all right?"

They thanked Isabela and left the Hanged Man, staggering out into the too-bright sunlight before heading back to Elsa's home. Either Orana or Bodhan must have anticipated their mood, because they had left a light breakfast and a pot of strong tea on the kitchen table with two place settings.

"Oh, ugh," Elsa said, making a face as she downed the contents of the vial Isabela had given her. "That stuff is _foul_." She took a few swallows of her tea to counteract the bitter taste.

"I'm not certain that the cure is worth it," Sebastian muttered, picking at the remainder of his scrambled eggs with a toasted piece of bread. It took a moment, but apparently whatever was in the vials began to work.

Elsa broke the silence. "So, what are we going to do now?" she asked.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?" He fiddled with the ends of the ribbon wrapped around his forearm. "A handfasting is only valid for a year and a day, but since we didn't consummate the union, it should be an easy thing to have it annulled."

Elsa rose and took both plates to the sink. "Oh." She took a bit of soap and began to wash the dishes, her head bent and hair hiding her face from Sebastian. "All right then."

"You _do_ want to have this annulled, don't you?" he asked, getting up and going towards her. He gently turned her so she faced him.

"I don't know," she said, wiping her hands on a dishrag. "I…I always thought that we'd eventually marry, but if you don't want…"

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. "My heart," he breathed. "Don't think that I don't want to marry you. Nothing is further from the truth, but I would rather remember the actual ceremony."

"It would be nice to actually remember the vows I took," Elsa agreed. She took a deep breath and stared up at him. "I really don't want to have this annulled."

"You want to be my wife, even now?" The city was in the middle of turmoil with the mages and the templars; he figured that they would wait until this crisis was over before focusing on Starkhaven and marriage.

"Nothing would make me happier. I might have to keep my last name just because everyone calls me by it. I don't know if I'd answer right away to anything other than Hawke." She smiled as he hugged her to him and spun them around in a little circle. "Easy!" she laughed. "I don't think the potion had enough time to completely work!"

"I love you," he said between kisses. "I didn't want to annul this either." His hands stroked down her sides and palmed her hips. "I just can't believe that I passed out on my bride during our wedding night. It isn't the best start of a marriage."

She gave him a wicked smile. "Oh, I think you'll have plenty of time to make up for last night," she said, loosening the ties on the neckline of his tunic. She slid her palms down his chest and plucked at the waistband of his trousers. "I do believe that you promised to ravish me on a nightly basis." She nipped at his bottom lip. "And sometimes in the afternoons."

"I most certainly did." He swallowed her moan with his mouth when he brushed his thumbs across her breasts. "And wouldn't you know it; it's well past noon." He laughed as she tugged on his hands, leading him out of the kitchens and towards her bedroom.

"I think I'm going to like being married," Elsa said as she toed off her boots and watched Sebastian turn the lock on the door.

"Oh, I know I will," he replied, whipping his shirt over his head in one movement. The smile he gave her was one of the tenderest things she had ever seen, his eyes softening and reflecting all the feelings he had for her. "Now, kiss me, Wife."

Elsa carded her fingers through his hair and rocked up on the tips of her toes. "As you wish, Husband."


	10. Healing Hands

Title: Healing Hands  
>Rating: R for adult situations<br>Summary: Comfort comes in many different shapes.  
>Note: This started out as a simple PWP, but then it morphed into something where I wanted to explore parts of a relationship that went beyond sex. Don't get me wrong; sex is great, but I wanted to show different layers of intimacy that can grow between a couple over time. This wasn't even supposed to be about these two, but hey, I'm not going to say no when Naked!Sebastian wants to be included in a story.<p>

* * *

><p>Sebastian let out a deep, satisfied sigh as he sank into the tub. Spending an entire week training Aveline's newest recruits – he'd been the one to start a conversation on how Kirkwall was sorely lacking in the archer department, never thinking that she'd actually take him up on his offer to instruct those she felt would be best suited for the role – had taken its toll on his body. While he practiced with his bow every morning to fine-tune his aim and speed, he hadn't put in a serious day of dedicated drills in years. As a result, his entire body, from his shoulders all the way down to his feet, felt as if it were on fire. A long soak in a hot bath – living with Elsa meant that he had access to this luxury as often as he wished – and a massage helped to ease some of the soreness, even though he really couldn't reach the spots that hurt the most by himself.<p>

Another thing that helped ease the pain was the single malt scotch he had found at the back of Elsa's wine cellar. The bottles held some of the best aged liquor he had ever tasted, and ironically, the stamped on label said the vintage came from a small village just outside of Starkhaven, near the highlands. He reached across the rim of the tub and took hold of the squat glass he had sat atop a nearby footstool, letting the smoky, peaty flavor roll across his tongue before going smoothly down his throat. The years he'd spent in sobriety had left him with a weaker tolerance to the stuff, but he'd found that only a small amount was plenty to loosen his muscles and help him doze off, which is what he was looking for.

He sighed again and shifted further down in the tub so that his shoulders were submerged. The only light in the bathing chamber came from the small fireplace on the opposite end of the room, the logs he had placed in the firebox popping and crackling away. It had been a good day; his lessons were taking root in his new pupils and despite the soreness, he was genuinely having a good time passing along his knowledge. The only thing that would have made the day complete would have been if Elsa were there with him. She'd been on the Sundermount for the better part of a scheduled two week trip and while he'd asked to come along with her, she'd taken Merrill, Anders, and Varric instead. The snub had initially stung, especially since this marked the first time that they'd been apart for so long since they began their relationship, but he understood her reasoning behind her choices. She'd mentioned that Merrill had needed to head off to a cave for something dealing with her mirror, but she'd been nervous about a possible confrontation with her clan. The elf had been spending a vast amount of time with Varric, so Elsa had wanted him to come along to make the trip as comfortable as possible. She'd neglected to take Fenris with her; he was one of their best warriors, but his and Merrill's personalities clashed so violently that his presence was out of the question. She'd soothed Sebastian's worries about venturing out without proper protection by inviting Anders along. He had to admit, even though he was an apostate, Anders was a great help on the battlefield and he was a competent healer. If (and Sebastian hated even thinking about it) anyone should get hurt, Anders was the best person to have with them. It was getting close to the end of the agreed-upon two week timeframe, which worried him. If Elsa and her group didn't make it back in another day, Sebastian was going to round up Aveline and Fenris to see what was holding them back.

The sound of feet on the stone floor barely registered. Without lifting himself further out of the bath, Sebastian waved a hand in the direction of the door. "Liam, you know what I said. Your upstairs privileges have been revoked for the foreseeable future after you chewed up my boots. Now head back down; you can't complain of the cold because we both know you have a nice, cozy fire to snuggle up to at the front of the house."

"My poor boy. He can't help it if he finds your boots to be excellent chew toys." The voice and the presence at the rim of the tub had Sebastian's eyes snapping open.

"Hawke," he started, relieved to see her standing there without any visible injuries. "I thought…"

"That I was the family dog. I get that a lot," she said, her mouth twisting upwards into a sarcastic smirk. "At least I don't smell like Liam on a bad day."

"Definitely not," he agreed, shifting so he was sitting in the tub. Her hair was slightly damp and her skin held the faintest scent of the soap popular in the public bathing house in Lowtown. The fact that she had stopped there before making her way home told him that she'd been particularly bloodied during her travels. "Made a stop in Lowtown?" he asked carefully, watching her face for any reaction. She knew how he was when she was hurt, so she tended to downplay her injuries from him, especially now that they lived together.

"I spent two weeks on top of a mountain, love. I didn't exactly smell like a bed of roses." She looked at him shyly and skimmed her fingers across the water. "Is there any room in there for one more?"

He held onto her hand and brought it up to his lips. "Always." Even though he had all but memorized the shape and feel of her body, watching her disrobe was always a pleasure. He scooted back so she could climb in front of him and she relaxed against his chest before tipping her head up for a kiss.

"I missed you," she breathed, nuzzling his jaw.

"I missed you too," he answered, wrapping his arms around her. "How did your trip go?"

She went still in his arms. "I don't really want to talk about it," she whispered, seeming to draw in towards herself. "At least not now. I'll tell you everything once I can wrap my head around all the events properly, I promise."

He nodded and pressed a kiss against her temple. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be here. What's important is that you made it back in one piece. Everything else is secondary."

She turned to face him so that she could cup his face with her palm. "Thank you for being understanding. It's one of the things that I love so much about you."

Sebastian nudged her nose with his. "Aside from my rugged good looks and charming ways?"

She laughed. "Not to mention your humility. I was lucky indeed that you decided to pay any attention to me all those years ago."

"Nay, I'm the fortunate one." He kissed her again, taking his time to savor the tastes and textures of her mouth until she let out a tiny whimper of desire. Water sloshed over the edge of the bath as he settled in the cradle of her thighs and guided her until her back rested against the opposite end of the tub. Barely lifting his lips away from hers, he huskily said, "If I had decided to remain in the Chantry, I would have had to lug bucket after bucket of water for my bath instead of having the convenience of indoor plumbing and a dwarf who knows how to enchant heated stones."

She rolled her eyes but sifted her fingers through his wet hair to draw him back down to her. "I knew you only loved me for my house," she teased.

"Among other things; you can cook too, which is a plus," he said lightly, ending on a groan when Elsa's fingers absently kneaded at the base of his skull. "That feels _wonderful_," he moaned, dropping his head against her shoulder so she could reach him better.

"You've got knots all up and down your neck," she commented, digging her fingers harder into his skin, which earned her another throaty groan and the slow glide of Sebastian's hand against the outside of her leg. "What have you been up to since I've been gone?"

"Archery training for the Guard. Aveline finally took me up on my offer to teach some of her qualified guardsman how to use a bow. She's been lacking in long distance fighters for some time now." He hissed when her fingers found a particularly sore spot where his neck met his shoulder. "I've been pushing them hard this past week."

She kissed his jaw. "And it seems as if you're paying the price for it."

He gave a tiny shrug. "This is nothing compared to what they're probably feeling. I'm surprised the lot of them haven't decided against the idea and gone back to swords and shields."

"They're probably afraid that Aveline would kill them for going against direct orders. Besides, you're a very good teacher; I'm certain that your students value your expertise enough to work through whatever aches and pains they're feeling." She tilted his head towards her and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. "Now, out of the water with you. I can't reach your back properly like this." Elsa placed the flat of her palms against his chest and gave a friendly shove to get him to sit up so she could stand and step out of the tub. She blotted out most of the water in her hair with a nearby bathing sheet before wrapping the soft material around her body. Reaching out, she picked up the glass tumbler and swallowed the last bit of whiskey left, enjoying the pleasant burn that went down her throat. "Coming?"

"Aye, lass. Just enjoying the view for a bit." He laughed when she playfully smacked at him with the second bathing sheet before grabbing it out of her hands and knotting it about his waist. Taking her hand, he let her lead him back to their bedroom.

"Face down on the bed, if you please," Elsa said, dropping her towel and slipping on one of her flimsy nightgowns before going to her vanity to sift through several glass vials.

"Yes ma'am," he said cheekily. "Should I take this off, or leave it on?"

She looked at him from over her shoulder. "Whichever you prefer." He couldn't help but preen a bit when she stared appreciatively at him when the towel hit the floor. The way she looked at him reminded Sebastian that she'd been gone for the better part of two weeks and he strode across the room to gather her in his arms and give her a proper welcome home kiss. She moaned against his lips as their kiss grew more insistent, his hands bringing the hemline of her nightgown up even as he urged her to sit at the edge of her vanity. The slight stinging pain of her fingernails digging into his scalp was completely worth it when his mouth trailed down her throat and latched onto the pebbled peak of a breast through the thin layer of silk, his lips curling up into a pleased smile at the sound of Elsa gasping his name. He hooked his arms underneath her bottom and was about to carry her bodily back to their bed when a red hot spasm shot through his leg, causing him to drop her back onto the vanity with a muted thud, a colorful curse muffled against her cleavage.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked, desire fading as quickly as it had appeared.

"Cramp," he hissed, leaning heavily against her.

"Here," Elsa slid her legs down from around his hips and moved to his side. Ducking underneath one of his arms, she helped him limp to the bed. Kneeling down in front of him, she took his foot in one hand and gently pulled upwards while holding onto his calf with her other hand. "Does this feel better?"

"A bit, yes." He leaned back on his hands and sighed in relief when her fingers found the right places to relieve his pain. "You have a gift for this."

She tilted her head. "Carver would get horrible muscle aches when he was still growing. Father would do his best with healing spells, but we found out that working them out was the best cure." Satisfied when the muscles in his calf relaxed, Elsa switched her attention to his other leg. "How long have you been like this?"

"A few days, perhaps more. Hot baths help with the soreness."

She shook her head and stood up, poking him in the knee to get him to swing his legs up on the mattress. "Honestly, Sebastian. I leave you alone for two weeks and this is what happens."

Stuffing his arms underneath the pillows, he smirked. "That proves that we shouldn't be apart for so long." He jumped when something cold hit his back, but relaxed when Elsa's palms slid over his spine, the subtle scent of cedar wood and juniper perfuming the air.

"No, we shouldn't." Her voice had gone soft and he craned his neck to see over his shoulder. She had a troubled expression on her face. "I should have brought you with us. Maybe if I had then…"

He leaned on an elbow and reached out to her. "Come here," he said, wanting nothing but to gather her up in his arms and offer to soothe away whatever hurts had happened up on the mountaintop.

She shook her head. "No." Softening her declaration with a faint smile, she let her fingers trail over his arm. "This is as much for me as it is for you. I need a reminder that I can do some good with my hands, that I'm capable of doing something other than bringing death to others."

He looked at her for a long moment before finally nodding. "You know that I can deny you nothing," he said, lying back down. Trying to break the tense atmosphere that had crept up on them, he added, "Feel free to use my body as you see fit, my lady."

It had the desired effect. Leaning over him, she planted a kiss to his cheek. "Careful what you wish for, my prince. If I truly had my way, we wouldn't see the outside of this room for at least a few days."

He turned his head and caught her lips with his. "Promises, promises," he murmured.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of Elsa's hands moving over his skin and the crackling of the fireplace the only noises in the room. She seemed to know exactly where his back hurt the most and where to use extra pressure without him having to say a word. It wasn't long before she had worked out all the knots and aches that had plagued him for days, leaving him more relaxed than he had felt in a long time.

"Forgive me," he slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open. She had long since joined him in bed, her fingers idly working on his scalp.

"Sleepy?" she asked, shifting so she could snuggle against his side, her hand still and warm on his shoulder.

"Very. You're a wonder." He gathered up enough strength to roll to his side and wrap an arm around her waist. "This was incredibly nice, but I wanted to welcome you home in a different fashion."

Elsa dragged the sheets over them both and hooked her leg over his hip. "Oh, believe me. A handsome, naked man I could run my hands over was _definitely_ a good thing to come home to." She lazily kissed him. "We'll try your method of homecoming in the morning." Yawning, she settled further in his arms, finally feeling at peace for the first time since starting the trek down the mountain. "I love you."

Sebastian rubbed his cheek against her hair. "And I love you." Kissing her forehead, he added, "Get some rest; I have plans for you later, my heart."

She smiled against his collarbone. "Promises, promises," she echoed, feeling herself drift off.


	11. Sticks and Stones

Title: Sticks and Stones  
>Rating: G<br>Summary: Being forced to watch Hawke fight alone nearly killed him.  
>Note: I don't know about anyone else's Hawkes, but Elsa took a rather sound beating before winning the duel with the Arishok by the skin of her teeth in-game. For continuity's sake, this takes place a little bit after <em>Flirting with Disaster<em>.

* * *

><p>Sebastian clenched his hands into fists and stared at the battle in front of him, feeling more powerless than he'd ever felt in his life. Beside him, Aveline flinched, her hands reaching for her sword.<p>

"We must stop this madness," she hissed, watching as her friend was tossed into the nearest wall like a child would throw a rag doll, Hawke's head making a sickening crack as it hit the stone. "She's going to die without our help."

Fenris shook his head, looking just as frustrated as his two companions. "She'll surely die if we _do_ help her. The Arishok has demanded a one-on-one duel; to intrude would sully the honor he has bestowed upon Hawke. He would have her killed for being weak enough to have to rely on her allies."

"And here we stand, unable to do anything," Sebastian growled, holding his breath as Elsa threw a flask at the Arishok's feet. The Qunari hadn't stipulated any rules besides this being a duel to the death between them, and Sebastian was pleased to see that Elsa was fighting dirty. Whatever concoction she had stored in the flask had severely slowed her opponent down, buying her enough time to uncork a health potion and shake the blood that had seeped down from her scalp out of her eyes. He watched as she threw a smoke bomb, using the cover to dive in and attack from behind, her poison-coated daggers steadily chipping away at the Arishok's health.

Even though the tide had seemed to turn in Hawke's favor, Sebastian couldn't help but pray for her safety, especially when it seemed as if the Arishok was feigning an injury in order to lull Elsa into a false sense of security. He would have shouted a warning, but just as he opened his mouth, the Arishok lunged forward, his sword going through Hawke's armor like a hot knife through butter, catching her underneath her ribs. "_Elsa, no!_" Sebastian heard himself roar while halfway stepping off the steps they had taken refuge at, his hand reaching for an arrow without him even realizing that he was moving.

"Wait," Fenris said firmly, clamping his hand over Sebastian's arm. They both stared in horror as Elsa seemed to slip further down the Arishok's blade, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her arm flailed backwards, but Sebastian noticed that she was using it to gain enough momentum to plunge the dagger she held tightly in her hand into the Arishok's eye. The Qunari let out a mighty bellow and dropped his sword, causing Elsa to fall to the ground as well. Somehow, she had managed to free herself of the pinning blade and she lunged at him with the last of her strength, sinking her second dagger hilt-deep into the side of his neck. As one last attack, the Arishok batted her away with his massive arm, causing her to hit a nearby pillar. Just as she slid down the stone column, the Arishok collapsed. Elsa's friends held their breath, waiting for one of the combatants to stir. Sebastian's heart leapt into his throat when Elsa stood on wobbly feet, her hand sliding in the bright red streak her blood had left on the pillar as she steadied herself.

"We will return…" the Arishok said, his voice gurgling before his last breath rattled past his lips.

Elsa sneered at the body. "I don't think so," she wheezed, fumbling at her belt for a health potion. Fenris couldn't have held him back if he had tried; Sebastian ran to Elsa's side, uncorking several more potions he kept in his belt pouch at all times.

"Can you stand?" he asked, handing her one. He couldn't stop himself from folding her into his arms and holding on tight, especially when she leaned heavily against him, her arm trapped tightly against the wound to try to staunch the bleeding.

"Yes, but I don't know for how long."

He wiped a trail of blood away from the corner of her mouth and began searching his pockets for something, anything, to act as a temporary bandage. "We'll get you to Anders," he promised.

"Just get me home," she said, her face going pale as she saw Meredith and Orsino come towards them. "Do that and I'll put you permanently on my tab at the Hanged Man."

Sebastian didn't spare the mage or the templar a second glance. He wrapped an arm around Elsa's waist and led her out of the Viscount's Keep, leaving Fenris and Aveline behind to deal with the aftermath. Halfway down the long flight of stairs, Elsa made a whimpering noise at his side and her legs crumpled underneath her, forcing him to carry her the rest of the way. Kicking the door to her home open, he bellowed for help.

* * *

><p>Elsa felt herself slowly come to. The first thing she noticed was that she could hear Anders on one side of her, explaining to someone about the extent of her injuries. <em>I'm shocked that I even made it past the throne room,<em> she thought, listening to the long list of ailments she had suffered. _I've got to pay Lady Elegant more for her potions when I see her next._ Keeping her eyes closed, she floated on the slightly disconnected feeling that potent potions and high level healing spells always gave her. It was almost akin to being drunk, but without having to imbibe the swill that she and her friends usually had at the Hanged Man.

"And she'll wake soon?" There was no mistaking the deep, rolling voice to her right. Worry had thickened Sebastian's brogue and Elsa had a somewhat delirious thought that should she die right now, she'd die a very happy woman if his voice was the last thing she ever heard. _Maker, I must have cracked my head harder than I thought if I'm thinking like this._

"_Soon_ is relative," Anders said, his voice going into his Teacher Mode as if often did when he tried to instruct Elsa on how to care for patients when she went to help him at his clinic. "What she needs now is time to let her body properly heal. Potions act like emergency bandages and while spells can completely heal wounds, rest is necessary in order for the body to return to normal." There was some scraping to her left; Anders must have been moving her bedside table back to where it belonged after using it for whatever he had needed it for. "Don't worry; she's perfectly healed and knowing her, she'll be up and having us running about the outskirts of Kirkwall before we know it."

"Thank you, Anders," Sebastian said. "I don't know what we all would have done had we lost her."

Anders's voice floated from beyond Elsa's bedroom door. "I'll come back to check on her once I finish rounds in my clinic. Keep an eye on her in the meanwhile, Vael." She didn't have to open her eyes in order to know that the mage was gone, disappearing down the stairs and into the kitchens to go through the shortcut to Darktown via her wine cellar.

Sebastian picked up Elsa's right hand and she could feel the warmth of his breath as he kissed her knuckles. "Both eyes," he swore quietly. She felt him linger over her fingers again before she let herself sink back into unconsciousness.

When she woke next, Elsa was sore all over. She stifled a pained groan and carefully opened her eyes. Weak sunlight was streaming through her windows, telling her that it was very early in the morning. Her body protested as she turned her head to the right, her mouth curving into a small smile at the sight next to her. Sebastian had dragged one of her chairs next to her bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his boots stacked one on top of the other. He was asleep; his hands folded over his stomach and his head resting on his shoulder at an angle sure to give him a crick in his neck. Dark eyelashes were fanned across his cheekbones and his face was slack, giving him an endearing air of vulnerability. She must have made a noise because without moving, his eyes snapped open and he was instantly alert.

"Elsa," he breathed, leaning an elbow on the mattress. He winced at the pain in his neck, but it was such a little thing, especially when he saw that Elsa's eyes were finally open. "How do you feel?"

She cleared her throat. "Like I've been thrown around a room by a very angry Qunari." She tried to sit up, but nothing wanted to cooperate with her. "And stabbed. Did I mention being stabbed?"

He shuddered. "Maker, don't remind me. That's a sight that I'll be taking to my grave." Reaching out, his hand sought hers. "You scared at least ten years off my life; don't ever do that again."

Elsa tried for a flippant chuckle. "As long as Isabela refrains from stealing more sacred texts, I don't think I'll be entering any more duels any time soon." Giving up on the sitting up attempt, she curled her fingers over Sebastian's. "Did I at least get a scar?"

He rolled his eyes, but pulled the sheets down. Aveline and Orana had cleaned Elsa up after Anders had finished healing her, Aveline hovering like a mother hen the entire time. He didn't know which one had picked the thin-strapped camisole and matching pair of sleeping pants, but he let his hand ghost over her midsection, his fingers hovering right over the bottom curve of her rib cage. "Anders did the best he could, but you had so much tissue damage that he couldn't help leaving a small reminder."

Elsa's fingers found their way under the hem of her camisole and she blindly felt for the raised edges of skin. "It's not that bad," she conceded. There was a short stretch of jagged flesh that went from her ribs to her breastbone; nothing quite as horrific as she'd expected, which was a testament to Anders's healing powers. "I'd have hated to come out of this without some sort of war wound. How else would Varric embellish the story?"

He shook his head. "He's already been busy adding his own spin to your tale. If we went with his version, you singlehandedly ripped the Arishok's head from his neck with your bare hands and then kicked it across the room where it landed in a nearby planter box."

She grinned and tried to laugh, but stopped short when her muscles protested. "I can always count on Varric to liven things up. Still, I can't believe he's warped events so quickly; it's only been a few hours since I passed out."

Sebastian's hold on her hand tightened. "Love, you've been asleep for nearly two full days. Isabela started taking bets on when you'd wake up." She could feel the small smile against her knuckles when he raised her hand to his mouth for another kiss. "It seems as if she owes me ten silvers since I said that you'd wake sometime today."

Between the shock of being out for so long and the fact that Sebastian had gambled, she managed to arch her eyebrow. "And what made you think that I would come to today?"

His lips slid down and around her wrist, momentarily distracting her. "I had faith in you, my heart." His eyes lowered and his kisses went further up her arm until he reached the inside of her elbow. He stayed there for a moment before looking up at her. "Maker, I'm a fool. You've only woken and I haven't asked if there's anything that you need. Would you like some water? Medicine for the pain? Anything?"

Elsa sighed at the lack of his breath against her skin. Truly, having him near made her forget about any lingering pain. "Water would be nice," she said, trying to keep her voice even as she finally managed to scoot further up on the pillows into a semi-sitting position. She watched as he moved to pour a glass of water from a nearby pitcher, noticing the way he tried to stifle a yawn. "How long have you been sitting with me?" she asked after taking a few sips, her hands shaking so much that Sebastian had to help hold the glass.

"Since Anders said you would make it." He'd only left her side momentarily to bathe and eat meals, choosing to keep his vigil in the chair he had pulled close to her bed.

"And you haven't slept." It wasn't a question. She knew from experience that Sebastian could go without sleep for a long time; he'd often volunteered to stay up on watch duty whenever they went out of Kirkwall in order to let some of their heavier fighters rest. Yet she could see that beyond the relieved look in his eye, he was nearing the end of his endurance.

"I caught a few naps here and there," he said, neatly dodging her statement. Reaching out, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Now, is there anything else I can get you?"

"Actually, there is one thing."

"Name it and it is yours."

She smoothed the sheets next to her. "Get in here with me and get some proper sleep." Even though she had been out for a long while, just sitting up and drinking water had drained her.

"But…" The offer was incredibly tempting, but he paused. While he had only recently abandoned the vows he had made to the Chantry in favor of seeking out his lands, he had wanted to take things slow with his and Elsa's new relationship. Sleeping in the same bed with her seemed improper.

"Come on, Vael. I don't have cooties." She eyed him, knowing that he was probably thinking things over in that lovely brain of his and coming up with all sorts of excuses as to how ungentlemanly it would be to share a bed with a woman. "If it makes you feel any better, I barely have any strength to sit up, let alone do anything naughty. Your virtue will be completely safe from me."

That earned her a wry chuckle. "I'm afraid that I'll hurt you," he confessed.

"Nonsense. I'm not made out of glass – I think the Arishok proved that quite well when he threw me against the wall. You're exhausted and knowing you, you aren't going to leave this room until I get a clean bill of health. It only makes sense that you get some rest as well."

"Your logic astounds me," he said. She could tell that she had won when he let go of her hand long enough to unlace his boots. Elsa groaned slightly at the pained twinge that went down her side when his added weight on the mattress made her shift with him.

Sebastian froze at the sound. "Tell me where I need to be," he whispered, his eyes large and looking down at her for any sign of discomfort.

"Right here is a good start," she answered, reaching out and dragging his hand until his arm was draped over her waist, the weight comforting. In the low light, Elsa could see that her bared arm looked as if it were painted in a wash of dark purples and sickly greens. Idly, she wondered if her entire body resembled one gigantic bruise. Belatedly self-conscious, she marveled at how Sebastian could bear to look at her. _I must seem disgusting to you, _she thought miserably, burrowing her face against the crook of his neck.

"Never," Sebastian said fiercely, moving back so she was forced to look up at him. She felt her cheeks redden when she realized that she had said the last bit out loud. Very gently, he framed her face with his hands, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. "You're a brave, fearless woman, Hawke. I sat here for hours on end just watching you, thinking what a miracle it was that this gem wandered into my life." With the same care, he carefully gathered her in his arms and laid a kiss at her temple. "When things were at their worst during your duel, I was terrified at the thought that this vivacious life could so easily be extinguished and that I could do nothing to help. Even bruised as you are, seeing you breathe is one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed."

Elsa felt her lip tremble even as Sebastian's thumb caught a tear at the corner of her eye. "What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?" she wondered.

"_A thaisce_, I wonder the same thing on a daily basis. Out of all the wicked things I've done in my lifetime, I never thought I would be worthy to experience this…" He brought her hand to his chest so her palm rested over his heart. "This joy, this contentedness."

Elsa's fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. "Even if the object of your affections is all black and blue?"

He nudged her nose with his. "And now you're just fishing for compliments, dearest." He kissed her cheek, his lips barely brushing the corner of her mouth. "Get some rest. I might have won the bet on when you'd wake, but I'd like to win the bet I made with Varric on when you'd be up on your feet and running the rest of us all over the Free Marches as well."

Her lips quirked upwards into a tired smile. "And when will that be?"

"I wagered we'd be stocking up on supplies in a week."

Settling against him, Elsa let her eyes drift shut. "I'll see what I can do."


	12. Morning Song

Title: Morning Song  
>Rating: PG for morning after pillow talk<br>Summary: "Better hope that my husband doesn't catch you here."  
>Note: This takes place directly after <em>Put the Lime in the Coconut<em>

* * *

><p>Sebastian slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the bright rays of light that shone down from the high windows. He frowned; surely he hadn't overslept? Stretching, he luxuriated in the feel of silken sheets against his bare skin and the press of a warm body against his back.<p>

A hand snaked under his left arm and rested itself over his chest. "Good morning." Sebastian couldn't stop the wide smile at the sound of the sleep-hoarse voice if his life had depended on it, especially when the person behind him shifted in bed and pressed her lips against his shoulder.

"Nay, lass. It's a _fantastic_ morning." Rolling over so he could face Hawke, he took in her tousled hair and relaxed expression. "Because I just realized something."

Elsa propped herself up on an elbow, completely unabashed that the sheets had slid down to pool at her waist. "Oh? And what would that be?"

His smile turned into an impish grin as he walked his fingers along the line of her arm. "I woke up this morning as a married man." He leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. "And I'm in bed with a beautiful, married woman."

She chuckled against his mouth. "Better watch it. I have no idea what my husband will do if he catches you here," she joked.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be understanding. It's my wife that's the unpredictable one."

"Well, I've heard that she's quite the territorial type." Elsa slid her fingers through his hair and tugged him closer. Sebastian swallowed her surprised squeak when he rolled them across the mattress until he had her beneath him.

"_A ghra mo chroi_, you have no worries there." He bent his head and nuzzled below her earlobe. "My heart belongs to you and no other."

Elsa cupped the side of his face with her hand. "And my heart belongs to you." She frowned, looking as if she was trying to remember something. "_Táim i ngrá leat._"

He leaned up so he could look her in the eye. "Where did you learn that?" His heart flipped in his chest. Elsa had said similar endearments before, but never in his own native dialect. Her pronunciation was a bit off, but her meaning still came through clearly.

"From Varric." She blushed. "He was doing some, erm, _research_ for his latest novel and I asked him for some of his notes."

He couldn't help his smirk. "Research, you say? What type of book does he have in mind?"

"I can't spill all of the details, but act surprised when you see a manuscript about a handsome soldier named Seb from Starkaven meeting Elsie, a Fereldan damsel in distress."

Sebastian snorted. "A damsel in distress? Clearly we should charge Varric with libel."

"That's all? No outrage at being used as a character in one of his books?"

He nuzzled her jaw. "Well, he _did_ say that my character was handsome, after all." He slid further down and nipped at her collarbone. "And he _does_ get the girl."

Elsa laughed. "That he does. So tell me, Husband," she felt positively _joyful_ about being able to call him that "What are your plans for the day?"

He gave her a thoughtful look, his chin propped up on her sternum. "Oh, I don't know. I guess one of my first orders of business would be to tell the Grand Cleric that she's minus one brother." He had a feeling that Elthina had known his heart better than he had, especially since she had been after him to decide his own path for years. It would be strange to not act in the same capacity as a brother of the faith any longer, but Sebastian was determined to continue helping the Chantry any way he could. Sebastian also thought that she'd be disappointed in the way that he and Elsa had been married, only because she had hinted at one point that she was looking forward to performing their marriage ceremony herself. _A handfasting lasts for only a year and a day,_ he reasoned. _We'll ask her to officially marry us when the time comes._

Elsa combed her fingers through his hair. "You're miles away. A sovereign for your thoughts?"

"That's quite a lot of money for one thought."

"Can't help it. Your thoughts mean a lot to me." Her smile faltered. "Any regrets?"

He moved back up her body and gathered her in his arms. "None whatsoever. Do you?"

"No, none." Actually, the only regret she had was that her parents weren't alive. Her father would have been initially gruff, but she was certain that he would have warmed to Sebastian. Elsa already knew that her mother had favored him, especially since she had hinted heavily about inviting him over for tea or for dinner on several occasions. Not wanting to turn a lighthearted moment morose, she pressed her lips to Sebastian's throat and sighed when his hands began to wander.

"What I was thinking about, Wife," he slid his hand underneath her knee and lazily hitched her leg over his hip, "was that it shouldn't take me very long to move my things over here. The dormitory is small in size and vows of poverty don't leave much room for many worldly possessions. I'd say two or three trips ought to cover it."

"I hadn't thought about that."

"It _is_ customary for couples to live together," he said, humor lacing his voice. "Unless you wish to move into the dormitories with me…"

"Maker forbid. Liam would run amok and give the sisters fits until someone gave him a ham bone to chew on." Besides, the walls of the Chantry tended to echo. If the night before was anything to go by, Elsa would surely never be able to look anyone in the eye ever again. Almost if to prove her point, she gasped and involuntarily let out a low moan when Sebastian's fingers began to travel further down her body. "I think moving is an excellent idea." She leaned up and kissed Sebastian, distracting him so she could roll them over, an amused chuckle escaping him as his back hit the mattress.

"Yet such an excellent idea is going to have to wait," she murmured against his mouth. Her hair hung around them like a curtain as she straddled his hips, his hands making patterns on her back. "I have plans for you this morning."

"Ah Love," he said, one of his hands going up to tangle in her hair. "I think I'm going to like your plan."

* * *

><p><em>Translation Note:<em>

A ghra mo chroi – Love of my heart

Táim i ngrá leat – I'm in love with you

Even though I've decided that the main local dialect in Starkhaven for this series is Scottish Gaelic, I really liked these Irish Gaelic endearments.


	13. For Better or for Worse

The thing that bugged me when doing this quest in-game was that any other love interest got kidnapped, but if you were in a romantic relationship with Sebastian, he was left alone. I've missed writing these two! I need to go back and refresh my memory, because I have several half-written snippets and jotted down story ideas saved up that need to be fleshed out.

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><p>While Sebastian didn't serve the Chantry in any official capacity, he still enjoyed attending as often as possible. The Chant, the pace of the service, the smell of the incense burning…it all served to calm his mind and ease his spirit. He normally rose in time to attend the sunrise services, even though as of late Sebastian was often too bleary-eyed and groggy to fully appreciate it. For once, he had actually overslept; he, Elsa and Aveline had spent much of the night patrolling Lowtown to see if they had ridded the area of the latest criminal element to pop up. It had been Aveline's actual watch, but Elsa had a soft spot for the people that lived there. And of course, Sebastian wasn't going to allow her to wander the streets alone, no matter how capable he knew her to be. At the end of it all, they had nipped into the Hanged Man and enjoyed a round or two of cards with Varric, followed by a round or two (or three; Sebastian had lost count) of Varric's fine supply of brandy. By the time that they had stumbled home - Aveline escorting them the entire way and tisking in such a manner that he was suddenly reminded of his own mother – they barely had any energy left to shuck their armor and sprawl out in bed before sleep took them.<p>

The fact that the two of them collapsed into their marital bed more often than not out of sheer exhaustion from fighting the local criminal element instead of exhausting themselves in a far more satisfying manner was not lost upon him. He knew that helping to keep the population of Kirkwall safe at night was its own reward, but damned if he didn't wish for more time to properly please his new bride.

Sebastian winced as the Chantry bells began to toll. The mild hangover he was nursing made everything far too loud and bright and he hoped that attending despite his condition would count as seeking penance for overindulging. Elsa would have normally been at his side, but she had rolled over and burrowed her face into the pillow when he began to rise. She'd mumbled something against his skin about meeting Varric and Fenris in order to run an errand back down in Lowtown, pouting when he slid out of bed in such a way that made him want to crawl back under the covers and stay there all day with her.

She had been dressing in her armor when he came out of the bathing chamber, the standing water and the damp towel neatly draped over the basin nearby telling him that she was in too much of a rush to meet their friends to take a proper bath. She'd kissed him sweetly and promised that she'd be back in time to join him for evening prayers before slipping out the door, whistling for Liam, her Mabari, as she went.

And now he was peacefully strolling down a blessedly shady alley back to Elsa's…no, back to _their_ estate and daydreaming about how much he was looking forward to seeing her when someone called out his name. He turned, thinking it to be one of the other parishioners or perhaps even Donnic when a fist flew at his face. It all happened so suddenly that he never got a good look at who had attacked. Reflexes took over and he blindly struck out, his knuckles catching on a whiskered jaw and scraping along teeth. He quickly pivoted, but his attacker apparently had an accomplice. A burlap sack was shoved over his head and his arms were pinned at his sides. He cried out, struggling with all his might, but then the tip of a blade nicked his neck. He felt the cool press of fingers against the cut, heard someone utter something he couldn't quite make out, and then darkness.

The next thing he knew, he smelled the briny sea air of the Wounded Coast and felt gritty sand underneath the side of his face. Whatever spell that had been cast had immobilized him. He was aware of his surroundings, but only barely. Even though the sack had been taken off, he saw things as if through a dirty windowpane and heard other things as if someone had stuffed his ears full of cotton. He would have panicked, but he recognized the distinct sound of Elsa's voice somewhere in front of him. He might not be able to understand what she was saying, but he understood the tone she was using. Oh, but she was angry. _Furious_, more like. There was an extremely brief battle that had died down before it had really began and then Elsa was beside him, her hands gentle as she rolled him to his side and pulled his head onto her lap. Her back was to everyone else, making him the only one privy to the look of sheer fright in her eyes. He wanted to do something to wipe it away, but then she took a few deep breaths to compose herself before turning her head to speak to the others. He probably should have been paying attention to the muffled conversation around him, but he couldn't, not when Elsa's fingers were gently running through his hair and stroking his cheek.

As quickly as it had been cast, the spell was broken, a young mage kneeling beside them and holding a piece of cloth over a fresh cut on his palm. Elsa helped Sebastian to his feet and he half-expected her to withdraw and keep a respectable distance between them like she normally did whenever anyone else was around - while she was normally affectionate in public when there was no one save for their close friends around to see, she tended to be a bit standoffish in front of strangers or those who only knew her in a professional manner – but she held onto him despite their Templar audience, her hand sliding into his and her fingers squeezing tightly almost to the point of discomfort. They stayed that way, hand in hand, the entire trip back into Kirkwall.

That had been hours ago. After thanking Cullen for his timely involvement and being assured that the boy who had freed Sebastian wouldn't be persecuted for being forced into blood magic, their usual group dispersed back to the barracks, the Hanged Man, and their crumbling mansions in Hightown. Alone, the two of them found themselves standing in the main hall of their home, Elsa facing the fireplace with her back to him. She hadn't said much on the way back and he was hesitant to say anything until he knew just what sort of mood she was in.

"They took you as bait," she finally said, her voice quiet. "They hurt you to get to me."

"And you came for me, as I had faith you would," he carefully replied. It seemed to be the wrong thing to say; her shoulders tensed and she seemed to pull herself inwards.

"You should go to the Chantry." Her tone was empty and hollow, something that he'd never heard from her before.

He shook his head. "I think we can miss the evening services after everything that went on today."

She took a shuddering breath, her shoulders sagging as if in defeat. "No. I meant that you should go to the Chantry and not come back. It's far too dangerous…_I'm_ far too dangerous for you."

Sebastian frowned. "So after one brief scuffle, you're ready to be done with me, is that it? Someone used me to get to you and you've decided that you'll not have me any longer?"

Elsa turned from the fireplace and he took a step forward when he saw the pained expression on her face, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. "Don't you understand, Vael? _Everyone_ that I've ever loved has died because of me. I wasn't fast enough to save Carver in Lothering and Bethany would still be alive if I hadn't brought her with me into the Deep Roads. I couldn't even protect Mother from what that monster did to her. And now I nearly…" Her breath hitched and she reached out to him, her hands shaking as they sought out his. "I could have lost you today. Seeing you lying there and not knowing if you were alive was one of the most terrifying experiences that I've gone through. I can put some distance between us; leaving me means that you'll be safe."

Sebastian leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "You've thought this out on our walk back, haven't you?" She didn't answer him, just simply nodded, her face contorted in despair. "Well, there's one thing that you haven't accounted for. I _love_ you, Elsa. I mean to marry you properly, to live by your side and raise our children with you, Maker willing. Don't _you_ understand, Hawke: it doesn't matter how hard you push me away or how far you run, I will _always_ follow."

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her chin up. "The vows state _for better or for worse_ for a reason. I'll not let death threats or the chance of becoming a hostage again stand between us."

She let out a sob before biting her lip. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you. I love you so much, I…"

He bent his head and kissed her. "None of us know how long we have here on this world," he murmured, holding her close. "If we spend our lives in fear, we'll have wasted time that we could have actually spent living." He would have kissed her again, but she beat him to it, her fingers threading into his hair as she stood on the tips of her toes to better align their bodies. He hadn't been wearing his usual gear at the time of his abduction, so the hard bite of leather and metal from Elsa's armor pressed against his clothes. He didn't care; he scooped her up in his arms and made his way up the flight of stairs to their bedroom. Elsa clung to him, even after he gently set her on her feet. It did something to him to see the woman that was normally the rock that everyone else hung onto in dire times finally break down. He felt a fierce need to protect her and an even stronger desire to wipe all traces of fear from her eyes. Armor and clothes were shed, Sebastian faintly smiling against her mouth at the number of knives, hidden or otherwise, that Elsa managed to carry on her. Somehow the both of them landed in a tangled heap on the bed, Elsa embracing him as if he'd disappear if she let go. She turned the side of her face against the pillows and gasped when the move allowed Sebastian to scrape his teeth against her bared throat, his body joining to hers as easily as if they had always been two halves of a whole.

"Look at me," he rasped, threading his fingers in her hair and tipping her face back towards him, never once changing the slow and steady pace he'd set for them. He bent his head and kissed her, Elsa's short nails leaving faint indentions on his biceps. Waiting until he saw her half-lidded eyes staring up at him, he framed her face with his hands and ran his thumbs over her cheeks. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he vowed.

He didn't know if it was his promise or the fact that she had already been close, but her back bowed and her mouth opened on a wordless cry. Her release triggered his own, his arms giving out on him as he buried his face against the crook of her neck, her soft skin muffling his shout. They lay like that for a long time before he finally found the strength to turn onto his side, tucking Elsa snugly against him. She wrapped her leg over his hip, her toes brushing the back of his thigh, and lightly ran her fingers through the hair at his chest.

"You really mean that, don't you?" she asked quietly, her mouth against his throat. "You'll never leave me, even if I push you away?"

He tilted her face up so he could look her in the eye. "Never. And I hope to never give you reason to run in the first place." He stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "For better or for worse, remember?"

She splayed her hand against his ribs. "I'll never run from you, Vael," she promised, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Not now, not ever."

He turned his head to kiss her properly. "I'll be holding you to that, my heart." He nudged her nose with his affectionately. "Besides, if you ever do go where I canna follow, I'll just take another path until I meet up with you again."

She smiled. "Is that so?"

"Aye, it is. I'm stubborn like that, didn't you know?"

Elsa curled even closer to him and closed her eyes. "And for that," she said, listening to the comforting beat of his heart at her ear. "I am incredibly grateful."


End file.
